Wind
by Oleanne
Summary: The White Council is gathering in Lothlórien. Orcs attack both the parties traveling from Imladris and Greenwood.  Who has divulged the council meeting? Angst and Torture warnings.
1. Chapter 1 Ambush

Elrond sat on watch with Areder, a young warrior only a decade past his majority. Elrond was silent and pensive, though he had first tried to ease the young elf's discomfort at drawing a watch with his Lord. The Lord of Imladris had never been one to separate himself from his warriors. In fact when the elven haven was first founded, he rode out with patrols as his duties permitted. But early in the third age, the overwhelming daily and diplomatic tasks of running the Elven haven combined with his healing duties brought that to an abrupt end. Now he only drew watch when they traveled. Due to the lateness of the hour, most of the other elves were sleeping. They were still four days from Lorien boarders having already crossed the misty mountains. Only Glorfindel and his sons were privy to the real reason behind their journey. They were on their way there for a meeting of the white council.

Elrond had been anxious about the journey. All of Elrond's foresight screamed danger and darkness to him. Yet there were no substantial images he could point to so as to delay their journey. Perhaps delaying their journey would only serve to increase the danger. Damn this gift of foresight. These images and feelings were not a guide to actions. Suddenly, though Elrond's senses tingled. He detected the presence of evil, of Orcs and a different being, one with the song of a Maia focused on him. He stood quickly and quietly, his mind reeling. He felt them coming, though Areder had not yet detected anything. The youth stared at his Lord with a look of shock when Elrond raised the alarm. Elrond sounded a call to arms with a series of quick whistles. The others quickly stirred, sensing the urgency of the call.

"Areder help me secure the perimeter." Several more warriors came up behind them. He heard Glorfindel shouting directions, then the Orcs were on top of them. Many surged forward through the hole on his right side, where Areder had fallen.

_"Please be well_," Elrond prayed silently then plunged his sword into another orc, his third kill. There was no time to stop and check his companion as other adversaries swarmed towards him. Windrider, his steed, neighed anxiously to his left. In the back of his mind came an alarm that he was being isolated, cut off from the rest of his party. He twisted, suddenly award of orcs jumping towards him from behind. A blinding flash of light hit him squarely in the chest and he sank into oblivion.

Thankfully, Elrond's warning was in time to have everyone armed and awake before the orcs descended. Chaos ensued. There must have been nearly three orcs for every elf. The clashing of blades rang in the dark night. It was close, hand-to-hand combat. Glorfindel had tried to reach his Lord, who he had sworn to the Valar that he would protect. But in the darkness and confusion he could not spot Elrond. Then ominously, the orcs retreated, leaving a deadly silence with bodies of the dead and wounded lying on the ground. Well-trained as both warriors and healers, the elves sprang into action, moving through the bodies and separating their injured companions from the dead orcs. It seemed the elves had been luckily this time. Glorfindel called rapidly to his warriors issuing orders, surprised and worried not to find Elrond doing the same. Was his Lord injured? They gathered the wounded to a more defensible position by the caves.

Elrohir tended the wounded, also worried about his father's absence. He had recognized his father's call to arms before the fight broke out. He tried to focus on mending the sword wound before him, bathing the wound before stitching it. He heard Glorfindel speaking slowly and urgently to someone nearby.

"Where is Ada?" Elrohir called to the Seneschal. "He is not here among the injured." Glorfindel turned, visibly agitated. It was obvious that he had expected to find Elrond here. The golden warrior headed back to the battle scene, meeting Elladan, who had been examining fallen orcs and looking carefully for his father.

"Elladan, any sign of your father? Help me check!" They hunted through the bodies of the dead orcs and rounded up the horses. Windrider, Elrond's horse, was prancing nervously and sported orc claw marks down his hind. There was no sign of the Lord of Imladris. Glorfindel reached out with his mind to his friend of nearly five millennia, but he could not detect him.

"Elladan!" He called. "Is your bond to your father intact?" He saw Elladan concentrate momentarily then nod.

"He is alive, though unconscious. That is all I can tell." Elladan's voice trembled. Elrohir came towards them, limping slightly.

"A quick survey of the wounded reveals that the orcs focused on the dark haired Elves. They did not aim to kill only to overpower. They were searching for someone." Elrohir concluded.

"Ada." Elladan stated in horror. "They must have captured him, that would explain their sudden withdrawal. We must track them." Glorfindel nodded.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Words pierced his consciousness and Elrond realized that he was lying face down in the dirt, surrounded by orcs. His body ached and he kept his eyes shut to ward off the nausea that threatened. He felt a cold metal encircling his neck and realized it must be some sort of manacle. He tried to move his arms behind him and winced as any movement of his arms jerked his head backwards. A rope connected his bound wrists to his braided hair. He was cursing silently when someone interrupted his thoughts by kicking him hard in the side.

"Roll over slave!" The orc kicked him several times with such force that it propelled him onto his back. "Master wants to play with you." The orc laughed maliciously. Elrond cleared his mind, it was only pain, he reasoned, centering his thoughts and steeling his mind before the onslaught. Glorfindel and his sons would track him. Surely they would realize his absence. He felt relief flow through him as he concentrated on his bonds with his sons. They were well.

"Soften him up for me." Came a different voice in softly spoken Sindaran. His hands were jerked up over his head and a rope thrown over the branch of the tree above. They pulled him upright until his toes barely brushed the ground. His tunic was ripped from him. He closed his eyes in concentration, willing a mask over his emotions. His thoughts focused on the beach where he and Celebrian had walked early in their courtship. The whistles of the whip and punches and jeers of the orcs broke through his calm once or twice, but he was able to regain his balance focusing on the waves gently rolling in and out on the shore. He did not flinch. No cry left his lips, though the fiery pain and crack of bones could not be denied. The blood loss made him weary. He lost track of time. At some point the beating stopped, and he called for the rain to wash his wounds. The water felt cool on the fiery marks on his back. A hand grabbed his head roughly and he opened his eyes. His vision was blurred; the face of an Istari swam in and out of focus. He could not understand the words that were spoken, though the Istari was clearly angry. He must escape, that much was clear.

"I said soften him up not kill him." The Istari screamed.

"He made no sound and we like to hear them squeal." The orc protested. Elrond blacked out.

When Elrond came too, he was lying on his back in the dirt. Someone punched him in the stomach and he reflectively swallowed a bitter liquid. His arms were tied to stakes on opposite sides of his body and he found himself staring into the cold, cruel eyes of the Istari.

"You will join me, elf. I will break you to my will." The Istari stated

"I will never join you. You will not win." Elrond replied in a steady soft voice as easily as if they were having a small disagreement over the dinner table. His mind began to loose track of time. He called on the storms, trying despirately to ignore the cycle of fiery pain from the poison needles that the Istari pushed slowly and steadily into his arm, twisting sideways and pulling back out again at a different angle. Again and again his tormentor repeated the process in the same spot. Each time the pain seem to escalate. Each time he was not sure that he would be able to hold back his scream.

"You will join me."

"Never" whispered Elrond, unable to stifle a soft moan. The Istari moved to another spot on his arm, repeating the process again and again. He blacked out at times from the pain. At times he opened his mouth to catch some of the cooling rainwater on his parched tongue, pleasantly swallowing the refreshing liquid. He was growing weaker, but he was sure that his legs would still carry him if he had the opportunity to escape.

The Istari hissed at him again, using his staff to burn into him, setting his mind aflame, but he did not cry out.

"You WILL submit to my will." The Istari screamed.

His blood stirred in recognition of the Maia spirit that his tormentor possessed. "Why would you take up kinslaying?" Elrond asked, his voice oddly calm. " I sense that we share some of the same Maiar blood."

"You mongrel. You mutant of the three kindreds, none want to truly claim you. I will crush your pitiful will." The Maiar spat at him. He pulled a longer, thicker silver rod out and thrust it through Elrond's body, just below his shoulder. It pierced the soft mud underneath him. The pain was a fiery lightening inside of him, encompassing everything, burning into his soul. He could not contain his scream at the utter agony. He knew no more.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was half a day later when the party from Imladris caught up with the contingent of elves from the Havens. Gildor greeted Glorfindel grimly. "There is a large party of orcs maybe a half a day ahead of us heading southeast towards the Anduin river." Gildor advised.

"We have been tracking them as well. We were ambushed last night. They had one goal. They have taken Lord Elrond prisoner." Glorfindel said slowly. "Alone, we cannot match their numbers. But together our two forces can engage and overpower them."

"Elrond!" Gildor repeated stunned. It was unheard of – orcs targeting and succeeding in taking an Elf Lord alive. "How could they have known of the council gathering? Did they expect us?"

"I don't know. It was a well-planned attack. Deliberate, as if they were expecting us." Glorfindel said grimly. They made plans to coordinate an attack on two fronts with Gildor leading the forces behind the orc group and Glorfindel taking a smaller contingent through the trees. The storm, which had lasted much of the day, suddenly wiped up violently.

"If anything the weather is in our favor. It should slow them down." Gildor noted. Glorfindel nodded, detecting the metallic twang of Vilya on his tongue. The storm was Elrond's doing. The trees fell silent and the rain abruptly subsided. Gildor looked up at the shocked faces of the twins and Glorfindel as he too, felt a shiver go through him as a cry of sheer anguish was carried by the wind. It was an elf's cry and there could be no mistaking that only the cruelest of torture could induce such a scream.

"We must hurry." Glorfindel mumbled. His heart quaked, knowing that it was Elrond who had cried out. "His need is too great for us to fail." Gildor nodded and relayed orders to his company. It was nearly five hours later, almost dusk when they engaged the enemy. The orc band was trying to cross the raging river. The storm was violent and the water engulfed the orcs. Glorfindel's force headed through the trees directly west of the orc group while Gildor's force pushed them from behind. They hoped to trap the orcs between their warriors.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Elrond awoke to jolts. The earth moved below him. He was pitched over a horse and the orcs were moving steadily towards a river. He could smell the water nearby. His hands had been secured behind him again, and his tunic had been replaced. The pain from the icy needle embedded in his shoulder was agonizing as each jolt of the horse caused it to move slightly, slowly spreading the poison. They were traveling quickly, perhaps pushed by Glorfindel and his warriors. He called on Vilya and lightning streaked through the sky. Shouts of orders he didn't understand rang through the night. He felt for the bonds to his sons, they were near. Hope welled inside him. He needed a diversion. He heard the clashing of blades and the whistle of arrows.

"Cross the river" someone commanded and his horse was lead into the water. He had his chance and seized it. The power and might of Vilya flowed through him and the water rose in a great wave, pushing him off the horse and carrying him downstream. He heard the cries of the orcs as the water grabbed, thrashed and drowned them. But the water surrounded and protected him, depositing him on a dark shore, protected by overhanging trees. He stood quickly, pausing only to steady himself. Then he scrambled up the bank, stumbling and hitting his chin on the dirt of the bank. His hands, again secured tightly behind him, could provide no help. Spitting the dirt aside, he pushed himself upward and propelled himself away from the river. He focused on his sons and let their bond guide his footsteps. He ran, using all the strength left to him. A golden light beckoned ahead. His spirit cried out with joy, recognizing the light of his protector and Seneschal.

A slight jingling of metal was audible ahead, moving steadily towards them through the trees. Glorfindel gave a signal and raised his bow. Then a tall figure, drenched and topped with dark hair emerged and ran towards him into the small clearing.

"Halt." Glorfindel commanded.

"Glor!" A deeper tenor voice replied, the figure sinking to its knees before him. "They follow." He panted.

"Elrond!" Glorfindel cried and lowered his bow. He rushed toward the figure, jerking him upright to pull him to safety. Elrond moaned at the treatment.

"Cut my hands loose! I need a sword!" Glorfindel dropped his bow quickly and signaled to the others. The Seneschal fumbled quickly for his knife and used it to cut the bonds that secured Elrond's hands behind his torso and connected them to a tight band bound through his hair. A metal collar round his neck with a short connecting chain appeared to be the source of the ringing sound that had alerted him to Elrond's approach. He would have to wait to remove it. Elrond scrambled up, fear evident in his movements.

"A sword!" He demanded. "The Istar comes for me." He turned to face the direction he had come from, raising the sword in one hand while the other hung limply at his left. "Surprise is our best chance."

Glorfindel nodded and wordlessly directed the others.

"Glor," came the soft spoken plea. "I would rather die than be captured. Please do whatever is necessary."

"You will not be captured." Glorfindel stated firmly as he disappeared from view. Elrond drew himself up, masking all pain and anxiety behind the confident mask of a warrior. He had a sword now the fight would be more even. The figure came closer.

"Elf Lord, there is no escape." The Istari broke through the trees to find Elrond alone, standing tall and facing him sword in hand.

"Why are you on the side of darkness, Istari?" Elrond's clear voice rang out. His sword was poised at ready.

"It is the winning side." The Istari spat, advancing ominously. His prey was vulnerable and would be easily recaptured. "Come, I have not finished my games, elf. I will break you to my will!" His staff swung to strike out, and he began muttering incantations. But he could not finish his chant before arrows and daggers struck him simultaneously and he fell dead at Elrond's feet. The elf Lord trembled violently and dropped his sword.

Glorfindel hurried to Elrond's side even as he motioned for other warriors to fill in the gap. He placed a hand gently on his friend's back, but drew back as Elrond let out a hiss of pain. Looking down he found that his hand was red with Elrond's blood.

"Elrond! How badly are you injured?" He cried as he gently took Elrond's good arm and lead him away from the sounds of battle, hovering protectively over the half-elf. Elrond allowed himself be led away; never taking his eyes off the golden-haired elf, as if he were afraid he might vanish.

"Glor," He said in a raspy voice. "I hoped to see you again." Sounds of swords rang behind them as a group of orcs rushed into the clearing. Glorfindel and Elrond were immediately surrounded by Elves. Emboldened by the return of their Lord, archers hidden in the trees fired arrows at the enemy contingent while the swordsmen made short work of any who eluded the deadly arrows.

Glorfindel guided Elrond to a secure spot and gently pushed him into a sitting position at the base of a particularly large tree trunk. He pulled a small water skin from his belt and handed it to Elrond. Then he quickly rose to assess their situation more fully. The elven forces had taken advantage of their enemy's confusion and soon not a single orc remained alive.


	2. Chapter 2 Fight for a soul

_Glorfindel quickly guided Elrond to a safer spot back up against the trees and gently pushed him into a sitting position at the base of a particularly large tree trunk. He pulled a small water skin from his belt and handed it to the trembling half-elf. Then he quickly rose to assess their situation more fully. The elven forces quickly dispatched the orcs taking advantage of their confusion. Glorfindel noted Elladan approaching._

"Bring healing supplies and blankets." He ordered. Elladan glanced nervously at his father then ran to get the supplies.

Glorfindel turned back to his charge and stooped to assess the figure at his feet. He was surprised to find Elrond gulping so greedily that water poured out down his chin as he gasped intermittently for air.

"Easy, my friend, slow down." Glorfindel chided gently. He wet a cloth and bent to wipe the dirt and blood off the noble face. His heart clenched with concern at the depth of pain easily readable in the silver eyes.

"Food?" Elrond's uncharacteristically shaky voice increased Glorfindel's worry. He pulled out a small wrapper containing a piece of lemba and exchanged it for the water skin.

"Elrond, what are your injuries? What should I treat first?" Glorfindel stared worriedly at Elrond's pale features. "Your arm?" He prompted. Elrond closed his eyes and took a deep pained breath.

"Glorfindel, I would rather you treat my injuries. My sons do not need to see this."

"Is your arm broken?"

"Poisoned needle wounds… There is still one in my shoulder." He whispered. "You must remove it. Please," he pleaded. "If possible I need a draught for pain. I … I could not hold back a scream when it pierced me." Elrond's eyes clouded and his face contorted with the remembered agony. "Protect yourself from the poison."

"Elrond, we will see you well again." Glorfindel promised, keeping his voice steady and calm.

"I hoped to see you and my sons again." Elrond whispered and reached out, engulfing Glorfindel in a one-handed hug. Tears flowed uncontrollably down his cheeks, soaking into the golden warriors cloak.

"It is alright." Comforted Glorfindel, gently stroking the dark head. He carefully returned the embrace, noting with fear how cold Elrond's skin felt and how this unflappable warrior from the first age trembled. "You are safe now. Let me care for you."

"I love you dearly, brother. Thank you for all that you have done for me and for my family. I have not been worthy of your service, golden one." Elrond whispered.

"All is freely given, Elrond. I have always loved you too." Glorfindel admitted softly. A tear escaped his eye as he began to sense the extent of his friend's injuries.

"What of your back?"

"Nothing life threatening. Lash marks, bruises and broken ribs." Elrond trembled violently as a wave of pain swept through him. "The poison, though, is like fire in my veins." Elrohir approached them and handed Glorfindel salves and bandages.

"Oh, Ada…" Elrohor cried softly, unable to keep back the tears. He gently kissed the dirt and blood covered head. "Drink this to ease the pain." He passed the cup to Elrond and helped him to slowly tip the cup to his lips.

"Elrond, we're going to remove your tunic." Glorfindel warned softly. Elladan approached, carrying Aethalas water. He sat down next to his father and grasped his right hand gently. They carefully began to remove his Elrond's tunic. All held back their gasps of horror at the silver nail that protruded from both sides of Elrond's left shoulder. Ugly black circles marred his left arm. They were obviously signs of similarly inflicted wounds.

"Do not touch it with bare hands." Elrond warned and slowly swallowed the last of the draught. "Ion-nin. I have promised to remain with you and I will try with all my strength to do so."

"Ada, save your strength." Elladan cautioned.

"I will. I love you both. Eru could not have blessed me with more wonderful children." His voice was a weak whisper. Elrohir kissed his father's head.

"I love you Ada." Both twins whispered in unison.

"Hold on Ada, we will bring you to Daernaneth. All will be well."

"I know." Elrond slurred. "I called to her. Haldir is coming with a large escort." His eyes closed as the strong pain medicine took effect.

"That should keep the pain at bay for awhile." Elrohir stated.

"What needs to be treated first?" Elladan's voice shook and he tried to push away the memories of them treating Naneth. It had been his father who had treated her first. Glorfindel could see the fear welling in the twin's eyes as he approached them. He knew the situation evoked parallels in their minds. .

"I have a pumace that is effective against most poisons. We must deal with the shoulder and arm wounds first. Your Adar will recover." Glorfindel's hands were wrapped in cloth. "Wrap your hands well to protect them from the poison. Prepare to cleanse the wound when I draw the needle forth. We will bring it to Lorien; perhaps they can identify the poison. Elladan, hold your father still." Glorfindel drew a deep breath. "Here we go." He grasped and pulled at the shiny silver rod, drawing it forth slowly. The effect on Elrond was immediate. A loud cry was elicited from the seemingly unconscious half-elf. His face suddenly contorted in pain and his body stiffened in struggle against his tormentor.

"You will not win. I will not join you." Came Elrond's defiant whisper. Elladan's heart swelled with both pride and worry as he bent to kiss his father's head.

"Ada, your are safe here." Elrohir concentrated hard, trying to push his father into a healing trance. Blood flowed red mixed with black poison from the wound. Elladan bathed the wound with Aethalas water, trying to flush out the poison. Then they packed each side of the wound with pumace and Aethalas, applying pressure to slow the bleeding.

"Glorfindel, Ada's heartbeat is racing! It is dangerously fast!" Elladan warned. Elrohir concentrated, trying to send his healing power to his father. But his skill was much less than what his father possessed. In his panic, he could not steady his father's spirit nor calm his heartbeat. Elrond moaned in pain. The moans were punctuated by gasping breaths, which only further unnerved Elrohir.

"Elrohir, move aside." Glorfindel ordered. The golden warrior knelt beside Elrond and grasped his right hand. Then Glorfindel placed his other hand over his friend's chest. Drawing in a deep breath and concentrating hard, he tried to share his spirit. The twins both gasped and stepped back as they watched a golden glow flow between the Seneschal and their father.

_"Elrond, brother!"_ Glorfindel called through his mind. _"Come back to me. I could not bear to lose you, dear one. Stay with me! Together we will fight this evil." _He reached down and embraced Elrond's trembling figure, rejoicing when he felt the spark of connection, a bond form between them. His heart leapt in joy as he felt Elrond's spirit and he focused calming, soothing thoughts towards his dear friend. He took advantage of Elrond's weakened condition to push the half-elf into a deep healing trance. As the connection broke, Glorfindel collapsed backwards, closing his eyes momentarily in exhaustion. Elladan responded quickly, catching him and easing him to lean against the tree.

"Glor, are you alright?" Asked the anxious twin.

"I'll be alright in a few minutes. I'm not trained as a healer in that sense." He muttered.

"What should we do next?" Elrohir wiped the blood away from his father's chest.

"You should pierce the marks on his arm and carefully draw out as much of the poison as possible." Elrohir used a clean thin needle to open the other wounds on Elrond's arm while Elladan rinsed the wounds and applied the pumace. Both the twins were concerned about the icy feel of the skin beneath their touch.

"We need to move quickly to warm him. Turn him gently and let us cleanse his back and bind his ribs as quickly as possible." With three of them working they soon had the lash marks cleansed and salve applied. Three ribs on the left side were broken, but thankfully none punctured the lung. Elrohir bandaged his father's wrists, where he had strained against his bonds. Then they removed the metal collar from his neck, spreading salves on the brilliant purple bruises that marred the white skin of his torso. They wrapped him in soft bandages and then slipped on fresh clothing, finally wrapping him a heavy blanket.

"Thank Eru that the rain has ceased. The river is too high to cross and it is still a two day ride to Lorien." Elrohir lamented.

"Elladan." Gildor, Cirdan's representative approached the twins, not sure which twin was which. Luckily Elladan turned and greeted him. "I found these on the Istari." He handed Elladan, Elrond's mithral circlet, hair clip and wedding band. Elladan stared down at them momentarily stunned. Then he placed his father's belongings in his pocket.

"Thank you." He managed to choke out.

"There was also a small case of silver rods with a bottle of a thick black substance, perhaps a poison and a palantír. We wrapped the palantír carefully in cloth, but I perceive only malice within. None should look into it."

" A wise precaution." Glorfindel observed. " Can you carry it until we reach Lorien? We should travel there with haste to give Lord Elrond the greatest chance of recovery."

"How grievous are his injuries? Gildor inquired.

"The worst are the poisoned wounds. We do not have the skill to identify the poison. Perhaps with your findings the healers in Lorien will be able to find an antidote. The wounds were inflicted with those metal rods." Glorfindel motioned to the metal needle enfolded in the blood stained cloths. All of them shuddered at the sight of the torture device.

"It is identical to those in the pouch." Gildor noted. Then he proceeded to update them on the outcome of their attack. "Nearly half of the orcs perished in the river. The rest were felled in battle. It was indeed fortuitous that the river was on our side." He paused looking at Glorfindel with some suspicion but not voicing any. "Because of the river, our attack was much easier. We have no casualties and few injuries. The river appeared to aid your Lord's escape as well."  
_  
"Ada makes his own opportunities."_ Elladan thought proudly.

"We should find the best place to cross the river and make for Lorien as soon as the injured are tended and readied for the journey. The palantír indicates that the Istari was not alone in planning Ada's abduction. " Elladan stated.

"Haste is in order. We do not want to risk another confrontation." Glorfindel seconded.

It was nearly dawn when they had located a suitable crossing and were ready to depart. Glorfindel and the twins took turns watching over Elrond, who moaned softly despite the potent draught they had administered for pain and sleep. His face was now flush with fever. His eyes darted open and focused from time to time as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

Glorfindel sat with him now, frowning slightly. The half-elf was in the throes of some tormented dream. He placed his hand on Elrond's forehead, hoping to call him back to the light. He was shocked when he heard the dark whispers of an unfamiliar voice, and he realized this must be part of the torment that Elrond was struggling against.

_"Elf!" _The voice sneared. _"You are not even half an elf. You are an abomination, a mutant mix of the three kindreds in which the weak blood of men dominates. You do not deserve the life of the immortal. You are mine. I will enslave you. You cannot defy me. Do you not feel my poison flowing through your veins?"_ The cold darkness was suffocating. Glorfindel concentrated, calling out for Elrond with his mind.

_"Elrond! Mellon nin! Come towards the light."_ Elrond's pale face was bathed in perspiration. His breathing was slow and unsteady. _"Elrond, come towards the light. Elrond, the blood of the three kindreds stirs inside you. You are compassion, kindness and love. You are a pillar of strength and endurance, the best of each of the kindred. Come back to us."_ The bright light of Glorfindel shone through the darkness of the poison, Elrond stirred. Tears slipped down Glorfindel's eyes. He had failed his Lord in not preventing his capture. He would not fail him again. Elrond would reach the Golden Woods alive, he vowed.

"Why is he waking? Elrohir interrupted his thoughts. "We prepared the strongest draught that we dare give him."

"It is better if he is awake and aware of us. It will remind him that he is not alone in his fight against the poison." Glorfindel said softly.

"Glor" Elrond choked. "My armor, please, please put it on me." Glorfindel was momentarily stunned by the request.

"They send another force." Elrond mumbled. "It is led by one of the Ulairi. It is nearly a hundred strong. They may intercept us before Haldir."

"How do you know?" questioned Glorfindel. The twins stood nearby too stunned to speak.

"I … the poison … it links me somehow to this Ulairi." Elrond said brokenly. "I can yet shield my mind from him, but the poison is like a beacon. He can locate us by it. I don't know if he realizes that it can work in reverse as well." Elrond paused. "Please, make haste. I do not wish others to die because of me. We must reach Haldir's forces first. Tell Celeborn they plan to ambush Thranduil's party as well. They believe that destroying Thranduil would effectively end his kingdom."

"You will tell him, Elrond." Glorfindel chided and bent to kiss the head of the suffering elf, wrapping him momentarily with his own spirit. "We will bring you to the Golden Woods." He promised.

"Here Ada, since a battle may lie ahead, you will need your armor." Elladan said, gently lifting his father and strapping the light silver armor carefully around his chest. Elladan could not help but shudder each time a choked groan left his father's lips. "Ada, drink this to ease your pain." He lifted the cup to his father's lips, and only truly felt fear when his father obediently drained the cup.

"How do you feel?" Glorfindel asked catching and holding Elrond in his powerful gaze. "Truthfully."

"Like my arm, shoulder and chest are aflame. The poison burns in my veins and the dark one pounds on my mental defenses. I fear the poison was meant to trap me as a wraith." His voice trembled. "I marvel at your bravery, Glor."

"You are just as strong and brave." Glorfindel returned. "We will ride together. Remember, you are not alone. I will always be near. Follow my light if you are lost." He lifted Elrond up onto Asfaloth and climbed behind him. Then they started their journey. "Lean back on me, Elrond. Rest, as much as you can." Glorfindel's steady heartbeat was a soothing rhythm. Elrond closed his eyes, knowing at least his body was safe. His mind was still on guard, the voice of the Ulairi ever present in the background, trying to discern a weakness. He shored up his defenses.

"How is he?" Gildor asked Glorfindel, noting the pained expression on the half-elf's face.

"He is not well, the poison spreads." Glorfindel said in a low voice. " I hope Lady Galadriel can find an antidote."

"How does he know where the Ulairi's forces are?"

"He said the poison connects them. How, I do not know."

"If any could survive such poison, it would be your most annoying leader." Gildor had never liked the half-elf, personally, a grudge due to his distrust of everything Edain; however, even he could not deny the valor and loyalty of the peredhel.

"Is that a veiled complement?" Glorfindel had no patience for the pompous elf beside him. His fears were focused on his injured lord.

Gildor dismissed the comment. " I have reorganized our forces, preparing, as you advised, for an attack on our western flank." They rode for hours in cautious silence.

"Haldor and Celeborn approach." Elrond mumbled not fully awake. It was no more than ten minutes before they met up with the warriors of Lorien. Asfaloth was weary from carrying two riders such a distance and Glorfindel transferred his charge to Celeborn. Elrond was his son-in-law, if the Lord of Lorien could not protect the half-elf, no one could.

"They approach." Elrond said in a low voice. "The Ulairi seeks me."

"They will never have you." Celeborn said in a commanding voice that made Elrond startle and look up. He had been unaware that he was riding now with Celeborn. Glorfindel and Gildor gave commands, then minutes later the orcs descended.

Arrows flew and swords flashed around them. Gildor, Haldir, Glorfindel and the twins formed a protective circle around Celeborn, who steadied the fevered and semi-conscious Elrond in front of him with his left hand while holding his sword steadily in his right. Elrond flinch in pain and released a moan before going limp. Celeborn pulled his son-in-law back protectively. A dreadful cold engulfed them and the Ulairi appeared in front of them, blocking their passage.

"Give me the peredhel! He belongs to me!" The Ulairi screamed raising his mace skyward. "You can no longer save him." The mace moved to strike at Celeborn's mount but was blocked by Glorfindel's sword.

Glorfindel glowed, the light of Aman spilling from his body. The warrior's eyes were filled with righteous fury. "Begone, you foul creature! It is I, Glorfindel of Gondolin, Balrog slayer, come back from the dead to deliver you to your doom." He charged at the Ulairi, uttering a Quenyan war cry. The Ulairi stiffened in fear, turned and fled. The others emboldened by their Golden Warrior, spurred their horses into a gallop, flanking Celeborn until he had crossed into the boarder of the Golden Woods. Galadriel met them with the healers prepared and ready to treat the wounded. They brought the unconscious Elrond and the exhausted Glorfindel to the healing rooms. Then Gildor, Haldir and the twins turned to rejoin the fight.


	3. Chapter 3 In the poison's grasp

Having delivered Elrond safely into the protection of the Golden Woods, the twins, Gildor, and Haldir turned to leave the protected enclave and aid their forces still engaged with the enemy. Haldir called for reinforcements and medics to join them. Without much pause they rejoined the battle that was still raging furiously beyond the secure boundaries of the Golden Woods. Haldir, the capable commander was immediately in the thick of things, reorganizing his warriors to more effective formations and adjusting for the changing nature of the orc attack. Gildor coordinated and effectively integrated his contingent from the Havens. Elladan took charge of the Imladris warriors, who were embolden by the safe delivery of their Lord to Lothlórien. Medics flocked behind the twins, urgently transporting the wounded to safety. The influx of reinforcements from the Golden Woods quickly turned the tides decisively in favor of the elves.

_Back within the safety of Lothlórien_

The healers eased Elrond's limp figure from Celeborn's grasp and the Lord of Lorien dismounted. Glorfindel was already explaining Elrond's injuries and the effects of the poison to Lady and the medics.

"Lord Celeborn" Glorfindel snapped to attention, suddenly remembered the urgency of his message. "Elrond warned that the Ulairi sent another force to assassinate King Thranduil." Celeborn eyes went wide at the implications.

"The poison connects him to the Nazgul?" Galadriel inquired, fearful of the implications.

"Yes, he feared that if he succumbed to the poison he would become a wraith." Glorfindel said solemnly. "I could hear its voice and feel its dark presence when I tried to aid Elrond's spirit. You must find an antidote soon. He has been fighting it for three days already." He fumbled in Asfaloth's saddlebag, carefully retrieving a small container. "Gildor found this on the Istari who tortured Elrond. I think it contains the poison. Use caution, Elrond warned us not to allow it to touch the skin." He handed the jar to Galadriel.

"One of the Istari tortured Lord Elrond?" Lord Angon, the Senschal of Lothlorien, gasped.

"Yes." Glorfindel confirmed, "and we have reason to believe that the attack on Lord Elrond was not planned by the Istari alone. Gildor also recovered a palantír. There was clearly malevolence within.

" "Angon" Celeborn said. "We have information that a second force heads to intercept Thranduil's party. Send a warning immediately and prepare to send a large escort." Angon nodded in agreement and hurried off.

_"How was the timing of the White council meeting divulged to the enemy?"_ Galadriel wondered wordlessly to Celeborn.

_"I know not, my Love. What of Elrond?"_ Celeborn returned, although he was now striding towards the warrior's command center. It was imperative both to fend off this foe and to gather a force to rendezvous with Thranduil.

"_I can not yet tell. He is strong, but I perceive great danger." _Galadriel returned her focus to the conversation at hand. She was quite adept at holding several conversations at once. None would guess that they did not have her undivided attention. "Which of the Istari is now numbered as an enemy?"

"Was numbered. We killed him as he attempted to recapture Elrond. His intents were clear. He swore aloud that he would break Elrond to his will." Glorfindel said slowly, shaking his head at the dreadful memory. The full shock of the last few days and the confrontation with Nazgul was catching up with him, and he swayed slightly with exhaustion. "He was unknown to us, though I will not forget his face. We have brought his staff and some of his belongings in the hope that Mithrandir might be able to identify them."

Galadriel studied Elrond's ashen face and then looked up at the Golden Warrior, recognizing the strong bonds of brotherhood between them. She felt the invisible strength that seeped from the Golden Warrior to the son of her heart, who lay motionless under the hands of the healers. His armor had been removed as well as his tunic. Blood stained the bandages covering his back. The bandages wrapping his arm and shoulder bandages had been removed and the exposed pumice was tinged with black.

"Touch not the pumice nor any of the wounds on his arm without protecting yourselves." Galadriel informed the healers. "I have a sample of the poison. We must make haste to identify and treat it." She turned back towards Elrond's seneschal. "Glorfindel, you are weary and drained." She smiled enigmatically and gently laid her hand on Glorfindel's arm gifting him some of her own strength. "Let us settle you and Elrond inside and after a restorative, you can apprise us further of the situation." The healers lifted the litter. Galadriel steadied and guided the Golden Warrior behind them up to the house of healing.

They had worked for hours in the healing wing trying many methods to draw the poison out and locate an antitoxin. Identifying the poison was a tricky business, but Galadriel was now sure that it had originated in Mordor. The question now was why an unknown Istari had aligned himself with Mordor, their sworn enemy? Was Sauron already stirring? Had he indeed returned? Perhaps the answers would become clear when the rest of the council arrived. The effects of the poison though were unmistakable. Even now, she could feel Elrond fighting the mind of the Nazgul, a force bent on subjugating the son of her heart. He had built a mighty wall around his thoughts that none could enter, though he still recognized friend from foe, allowing both Galadriel and Glorfindel to give him strength. It was nightfall when the healers had moved Elrond to the flet that he normally occupied when visiting. He was with fever, and his pale face was drenched with perspiration. Glorfindel was asleep in the chair. Arwen had left to aid the healers with the other wounded.

"_How is he?" _came her husband's voice in her mind. He had just finished organizing the force to intercept Thranduil, which would depart at dawn.

"_He fights the poison. He fights for control of his own destiny."_ She relaid, wiping Elrond's brow with a cool cloth.

"_Is there hope?" _He asked.

"_I can only see hope if we find an antidote. Otherwise he will be trapped as a wraith."_ She said truthfully.

"_We will not allow that to happen. He would choose to escape to Mandos."_Celeborn reminded.

"_Would you send him if need be? I do not know if I could." _She pleaded.

"_I would if it were necessary. I will not depart tomorrow morning, though the twins will."_

"_That does not surprise me." _ Celeborn and the twins stepped through the door and into the flet.

"Daernaneth" Elrohir hugged her. Elladan was standing, silent behind his brother. Elrohir was dirty and disheveled and lowered his voice when he spotted Glorfindel sleeping on the chair. Tears threatened his eyes as he looked upon his father. "We will set out tomorrow with Haldir to try to meet Thranduil's party. A message from the crown prince of Mirkwood said Thranduil's party had set out this morning."

Galadriel focused her attention on her grandsons, pulling Elladan next into a hug. They were both tired and deeply worried about their father. It was better to send them out with the morning. They should not be here if the worst should happened.


	4. Chapter 4 The end of Elrond?

Elrond lay in a restless sleep on the large bed in the flet. His pale fevered visage alternated between a blank expression and a fearful, pained one, which was usually accompanied by soft incomprehensible whispers of delirium. Glorfindel lounged sleeping on the large chair nearby while Arwen held her father's hand and gently wiped his brow with a cool cloth. She sat back thoughtfully, wondering how long it would be until her father awoke. He had been in this state much of the past two days, since his arrival in Lothlórien. The healers and Daernaneth had worked for many hours, trying to draw out the poison out of Elrond's system. The samples brought back from the Istari proved to be a poison never previously encountered, and they were working diligently to seek an antidote. The Elf Lord looked frightening close to death. His skin was ashen grey in complexion. Even the whites of his eyes were tinted grey. For her part, Arwen could not remember ever seeing her father truly ill. Several times he had collapsed from exhaustion over her long lifetime but never had he been truly ill. The healers here could not identify the poison, and Arwen was beside herself with worry. How could she bear to lose her father when she had not even accepted the loss of her mother? When she focused again on her father, she saw him staring back at her with an expression filled with pain and confusion.

"Ada!" She breathed, hoping that she wasn't dreaming. "You are safe in Lorien." She said as calmly as she could manage and reached again for his hand, nearly gasping in surprise when he drew it back from her. His eyes were clouded with pain and guarded against another attack.

"You are safe here." She repeated. "Ada, it is me, Arwen." She reached to touch his face to calm him in his confusion. Arwen's heart clenched with worry.

"My lady." He said with unmistakable suspicion in his tone. "You mistake me for someone else." He pulled back. "I am Elrond. I think I would remember meeting a beautiful Elleth." His voice trembled.

Glorfindel was now awake and watched the exchange closely. He slowly approached the bed not wanting to startle them. He gave Elrond a kind and reassuring smile. "My Lord, you were wounded in an orc attack a few days ago. What is the last thing you remember?"

Elrond startled at Glorfindel's voice, not quite recognizing him but somehow feeling safe in the presence of this Golden One. He grimaced in pain. His voice carried his confusion. "Who are you? Where is Ereinion?" He demanded. The wind outside picked up suddenly. Glorfindel was momentarily silent in his surprise, then recovered enough to asked.

"Tell us what you remember. We are here to help. Are you in pain?"

"I think was in Lindon." His voice was shaky and unsure. "I remember being attacked by orcs and an istari. The istari tortured me. I remember his cold cruel eyes." Elrond's hands moved nervously over the bandage on his shoulder. His eyes closed. He let out a moan, sinking back into the cushions.

"You escaped and ran into my patrol. We killed the istari and dispatched the orcs." Glorfindel reported. "Do you not remember?"

Elrond shuttered involuntarily, the fiery poison pulsing within him. So many pictures flashed through his head, yet he could not grasp them. Someone held his hand in comfort. When he opened his eyes he found himself caught in the azure blue gaze of the Golden warrior. He recognized this golden light and the threads that bound them together. "Glorfindel, Mellon-nin," He breathed out, the emotion evident in his eyes as he suddenly remembered their connection. "I don't know how long my defenses can hold. Is there no antidote for this poison?" He voice broke, sounding like the plea of a frightened child. He felt his world spiral out of control and with a low moan he slipped back into unconsciousness. The wind lashed the trees and the room swayed slightly.

Voices. He heard voices around him, but the thrum of the poison in his system made them seem far away.

"Ada did not recognize me, Daernaneth." The silken voice of a women flowed on the wind. "He didn't recognize Glorfindel at first, but asked for Ereinion. He is under great strain." Arwen did not know how to explain the emotional swings she had observed.

A cool hand touched his brow. "Minë, come back to the light." It was the name Maedhros had first called him, what Elrond had responded to when he and his brother were recovered from the brothers Feanor. He opened his eyes unable to resist this voice, the voice of one of his guardians. The beautiful flowing golden hair tickled his cheek and he looked up relieved to see a face he immediately recognized.

"Lady Galadriel." He whispered and reached a shaky hand up to touch her check. "Is it you?" Fear clearly sounded in his childlike voice. Thunder boomed outside. "Minë, child," said the steady voice of one he trusted. "calm yourself, you are safe here." She bent to kiss him on the forehead. Slowly the storm abated to a gentle rain.

"Minë" she smiled, "you have been very ill. You were poisoned. We are trying to find an antidote. We removed as much of the poison as we could." She smiled comfortingly.

"My Lady." Elrond spoke softly and slowly as if divulging a secret. "A dark beast, who calls himself a king, beats even now at the walls of my mind." His voice changed, and was now tinged with desperation. "I know not how long I can keep him at bay."

Galadriel showed no outward sign of her apprehension. She held Elrond's eyes with hers, slowly assessing his condition. She pulled back as the blue glow of Vilya surrounded him.

"You must not enter my mind." Elrond said sharply, suddenly sounding wrathful. " I can not hold the barrier if you breech it. If it falls, I will become a wraith." He sat up quickly, shaking violently as the memories assaulted him. His hand swatted the air as if to push something away.

Galadriel stepped back. "Does he know you carry Vilya?

Elrond looked down at his hand. Vilya was suddenly visible, its blue stone glimmering brightly. " No." He whispered looking frantically around the room, his eyes blinking in confusion. He saw the Elleth from earlier, Glorfindel and recognized Lord Celeborn.

"Should you remove it?" Celeborn asked.

"I cannot. He will sense the change and he will know it exists. The poison connects us." Elrond paused his face grimaced in pain. "Is there no antidote!" He shouted. His hand clutched at his head and his face contorted in pain.

"We have discovered no antidote for this poison." Galadriel said softly.

"I will not become a thrall to you, Ulairi!" He shouted to the one not in the room.

"How can we remove the poison? Do you know?" Galadriel asked drawing at straws, but hoping for a solution.

"Vilya, ring of the" Elrond said hurriedly. It was an option he had obviously considered and long dismissed as a last resort.

"Air" Galadriel supplied.

"I can fly on the wind!" His voice was loud and elated. Galadriel frown, not understanding the connection. "Elros always dreamed of flying." Elrond swayed. Glorfindel moved to steady him and pulled him back into his arms. "I can sail like Ada! I can fly!"

"Elrond, we do not wish to loose you. Do not become one of the unhoused." Galadriel spoke in a low voice.

"I will not become a wraith." He replied adamantly, his eyes blazing now in defiance. There was a minute pause and all were silent. "It is too late to escape to Mando's Hall." He lamented.

"I can not hold out much longer." Elrond voice was suddenly hushed, as if he were a small child admitting to a misdeed. He drew himself up to stand on his own. In that moment he made his decision.

Elrond turned towards his seneschal, grasping his hand. "Glorfindel," he spoke slightly louder than necessary, then suddenly regained his composure. "Glorfindel, if I do not return it will come to you." They all knew that he referred to Vilya. He wiped the tear from Glorfindel's cheek, Vilya sang in recognition. " I am sorry. I must go. " Elrond's voice wavered as Glorfindel nodded. "Namarie, my friends. Namarie Undomiel." He whispered meeting his daughters eyes with sudden recognition.

The soft glow around Elrond increased in intensity forcing Glorfindel to step back.

"Do not let any touch the poison." Elrond ordered.

"Elrond, what is happening?" Glorfindel's voice was filled with fear.

"Call me back, if I forget." Elrond pleaded. The light grew brighter until its intensity was burning, and all were forced to turn away, shielding their eyes. Moments later the light vanished. When they looked back Elrond's clothes, covered in a thick black paste, were lying on the ground. Of Elrond himself, there was no sign.

The four stood silent in shock until Galadriel quickly recovered and turned the power of Nenya on the poison, destroying it with hot white flames. A breeze suddenly flowed around them, it imparted a sense of relief, of the end of suffering. Then suddenly the air in the room was still.

"Ada is wind?" Arwen broke the silence, tears were streaming uncontrollably down her cheeks. Celeborn embraced her and she sobbed into his shoulder.

"We must not speak of this to any others, except for the twins." Galadriel looked up, piercing Glorfindel with a stare. She recognized the new bonds that tied him to Elrond. "Do not fear yet, Golden One. He is still within Lorien, I think he is tied to you and his children." She smiled. "Why should that be so?"

"The Lady Celebrian feared he would become one of the unhoused, a nameless spirit on the wind." Glorfindel admitted softly. They all stared at him in shock. "She bade me to …" But he could not put a voice to his words and he bowed his head, his emotions overwhelming. _"My brother"_ he thought, "_I have failed you!"_

"I think we can call him back." Galadriel said slowly, laying her hand on his shoulder in comfort.

"How?"

"I do not yet know." She admitted.


	5. Chapter 5 Whispers of the wind

"_Ada is wind?" Arwen broke the silence. Tears were streaming uncontrollably down her cheeks. _

Arwen stood brushing her mare down, her face flushed from the exertion of her ride. It had been a whole day since her father, always her source of comfort and protection of strength and healing, had disappeared. Her hands shook as she thought of her father, tears again threatening to slip from her eyes. They were playing a charade, taking turns sitting in Ada's flet, pretending that he was still there. How could they explain what happened? How could she face the coming darkness with neither of her beloved parents by her side? Tears fell freely now from her eyes but the breeze gently brushed them away. She looked up at the Mallorn nearby, noting that the branches were still, there was not a breeze today. But around her the breeze tugged and circled a little whirlwind around her. It gently unwound her braids. She felt the comforting presence of her Ada, soothing her aching heart.

"Ada!" She breathed not daring to move.

"Undómiel, don't cry." Came the reply directly into her mind.

"Ada, I can not see you." Laughter, gentle laughter floated around her. The breeze tickled her face.

"You can't see wind." It replied jollily. He was happy. Her heart surged.

"We were afraid you would forget your life and be lost to us." She whispered through her tears.

"Who? What have I have forgotten? I do not know what I remember. I am wind, free and unburdened. But you, Undómiel, riding wild and free upon the mare, I remembered you little one, for a moment. I remembered my lovely little daughter." The wind whispered.

"Ada, don't leave me." She begged, tears obscuring her vision. "Elladan and Elrohir have gone out to meet Thranduil. Please come back to us. I could not bear to tell them you are gone."

The breeze brushed her hair quietly as minutes past in silence, then it whispered more softly. "Namarie." The word floated around her and dissipated.

"Ada!" She called again and again, but there was no further answer. Then she ran, frantic to find the comforts of her family, needing to feel the safety of her Grandparents arms.

Galadriel was sitting in her flet, when Arwen burst in. She had felt Arwen's sorrow and panic and opened her arms to embrace her Undómiel. Her granddaughter cried inconsolably in her arms. Galadriel reached out with her mind to assess Lothlorien, to discern what had precipitated this. She felt the soft blue light of Vilya and the gentle spirit of her son-in-law approach the edge of the woods.

"_Elrond!" _She called to his spirit through the connection of the Elven rings. _"Elrond, come back! You will loose your way beyond the woods. Please stay!"_

But the wind gifted her just one brief thought. _"Namarie."_

_Several days later - King Thranduil and his guard._

Thranduil rose and rubbed gently at his eyes. He never slept soundly while traveling. He was always straining to detect any dangers no matter how many of his elite guard surrounded him. He was clothed no differently than his warriors. There was nothing to give away his status except for the golden hair, which was tightly bound in warrior braids.

"_Two days." _Thranduil thought_ "Two more days until we cross the boundary and enter the safety of the Golden woods." _He looked over at the still sleeping form of his youngest son, Legolas, so much like his dear departed Naneth. His heart swelled with pride and love as he considered what a skilled warrior and compassionate prince his youngest had developed into. His son, so eager for his big trip back to the Golden Woods, that he could not sleep for much of the past week. Thranduil smirked slightly at the thought. Legolas had only last night succumbed to exhaustion, falling into a deep and needed sleep.

The wind picked up, shaking the branches of the surrounding trees. It put Thranduil immediately on edge. The wind and trees warned of approaching danger. Legolas, so sensitive to the sounds of his beloved forest, stirred instantly. Thranduil felt a familiar presence brush his mind, urgently warning him of a threat to his life. He could not identify the presence he felt, yet somehow he trusted in its sincerity.

"What danger?" He asked aloud but meant the question only for the wind. The captain of his guard, approached.

"_Orcs, ulairi, west!" _The wind whispered to him.

"Hir-nin?" His captain questioned.

"The forest and wind warn of a large group of orcs lead by an ulairi approaching from the west." Thranduil repeated in a solemn voice. His captain looked up with wide eyes. Thranduil could sense him quickly planning a defensive strategy.

"They intend to intercept us, seeking in one attack to destroy Mirkwood." Thranduil related the feelings he had perceived from the wind, which was now silent but agitated. It blew through his braids.

"They outnumber us?" Lesamon questioned. The wind rattled the leaves as if in confirmation and pulled on Legolas' loose blond locks. Thranduil had never felt the wind whisper so directly, usually its warnings were more nebulous, leaving more to interpretation.

"Legolas, braid your hair." Thranduil ordered. "Lesamon seek a more secure site to our east, one that could aid us in our fight against this determined foe. Gather the horses, we leave in five minutes."

The Mirkwood guard rose in a flurry of activity, quickly packing supplies and covering tracks and signs that might reveal how large their numbers were. Several scouts headed east into the forest to identify a more secure location while two scouts headed west through the trees to find the enemy.

Much to Legolas's surprise, Thranduil took water from his canteen and quickly mixed it with dirt to form a brown mud.

"Ada?" Legolas inquired, having finished with his braids.

"Sit down here." His father directed and quickly proceeded to cover his sons golden braids with the mixture, dulling their sheen. "We are the only two here with golden hair. I would not have you so visible a target. This foe is determined to kill us both." He added in a quiet voice. "They will not succeed." Thranduil stated with confidence. He motioned for his son to complete the same process on his own hair. Then they rose and mounted their horses, riding northeast in search of a more strategic location.


	6. Chapter 6 In battle with the Witch King

The King's Guard surrounded Thranduil and Legolas, protecting them as they retreated east through the woods to establish more defensible position. Signals relayed from the scouts told them that flight would now be impossible, as their enemy was closing in. Luckily, the dense forest would shelter them until the last possible minute. Lesamon had found a rock outcrop that could provide some protection from the onslaught. He set about strategically placing archers in the trees and behind naturally shielded spots. The orcs were close enough to hear and a cold dread spread through every elf as the Nazgul approached. Then waves of orcs rushed into the clearing. Arrows flew with furious speed cutting down the first group, but wave after wave of their evil brethren clamored relentlessly over their fallen comrades.

"Kill the golden-haired elves!" The ulairi screamed, but no blond elves were noticeable. "Leave none alive!" The Nazgul amended.

The wind blew fiercely around the battle as if it were despairing that it could do naught to aid the elves. The blustering breeze rocked the branches, raising a din that was audible for many miles. The beleaguered Mirkwood elves stood bravely, fighting with all their strength, but were only twenty and were desperately outnumbered. One by one they fell under the onslaught.

Thranduil looked up in horror. Time slowed down as he saw the barbed arrow fly towards his youngest and saw it impact in his chest. Legolas registered surprise as he was propelled backwards collapsing out of view. Rage pulsed through Thranduil. In the back of his warrior's mind he recognized such a wound would be mortal to his dearly beloved child. Rage overtook him and he struck out against his foes so fiercely that they fell back in fear. In his fury, he barely heard the attack signals from the arriving Lothlorien elves, who had been guided by the noise of the battle and whispers of the trees. Nor did Thranduil see the two sons of Elrond, whose eyes were dark with wrath as they struck out against the orcs in retribution for their Mother, for their family, for their friends.

Thranduil fought until he was face to face with the Nazgul King. His broad sword rang out clashing with a mighty gong against the Nazgul's mace. The two were soon pitched in a brutal battle.

"Servant of evil!" Bellowed Thranduil. "Tell your master the Witch King that I will destroy him." With a powerful stroke, he broke the Nazgul's mace clean in half. Then he moved in with the intent to kill. The Nazgul quailed under Thranduil's hateful glare, recognizing the ferocity of this warrior elf from the first age. The black cloak of the enemy swished suddenly as he turned and fled.

Of Thranduil's party only the King and six guards remained standing. The field was now flooded with Lothlorian warriors, who swarmed around their Mirkwood allies, dispatching the remaining orcs. Signals between the warriors noted when another Mirkwood elf had been located, and they soon had transported the dead and wounded elves to a sheltered spot by the rocks. Of all the courageous Mirkwood warriors, it was the King Thranduil himself who fought most fiercely, driven by his vengence. A large percentage of the foul creatures now lay dead on the field and the remaining orc's fled after their leader.

Thranduil shook his head, clearing the frenzy of the battle from his mind. He focused on the bond to his son. It was terrifyingly weak. He searched the bloody scene before him and walked towards the two identical dark haired Noldor elves. The one kneeling over a prone figure was obviously Elrohir, the quieter, more sensitive of the two. It was this twin who had been endowed with the greater healing gifts. Elrohir raised his eyes to meet Thranduil's. Thranduil could read the despair in those eyes, the realization that Elrohir could do nothing for his friend other than hold his hand while his spirit escaped to Mandos Hall. The wind swirled angrily around. Thranduil bent next to Legolas and kissed his brow, clasping the dear hand of his son. Legolas looked up at him, his eyes already dimming.

The enraged wind pushed against Elladan, making him squat down next to his brother. Gales of pulsing righteous rage pushed against him. He almost shouted with fear as he felt the wind's power surge through him. He quickly raised his guard around his mind and the wind spirit paused. It gave him a brief moment to assess it. Elladan felt the fierceness and courage of a powerful Elven warrior, the mighty rush of the Edain, driven to invent and accomplish, and the wisdom and duty of the Maia. In that moment, he recognized the encompassing song that tied these different voices together, the melody of his father entwined with the power of Vilya. He gasped and opened his mind, letting the power engulf him. He felt his lips move under another's command.

"Stand aside, Elrohir!" He said in a loud voice, pushing his brother out of the way. He trembled as he knelt next to Legolas and laid his hands around the wound, surrounding the arrow shaft with his fingers. He released a hiss of pain as the power of Vilya vibrated through him.

Thranduil and Elrohir could only watch in stunned silence as the white glow poured from the air through Elladan's fingers into the arrow shaft. The shaft slid out of Legolas' body. Thranduil caught it and threw it barbed arrow to the ground. Blood poured from the wound at first. Then unbeknownst to all, deep inside the wound, blood vessels and tissue knitted together slowly closing the tear in Legolas' lung. The bleeding slowed.

Elladan felt the power falter. Would it be enough? He closed his eyes, directing all his own strength towards Legolas, seeking to augment that of his father and Vilya. In his mind he saw in wonder the diversity of his father's spirit, like a rainbow or a stain glass window. The power slowly ebbed, the light fading from Elladan's numb fingers. Elladan felt something shatter, releasing the different melodies. He tried to catch snippets of the song and trap them in his heart. He felt his twin attempt to do the same. The glow ceased and he fell backwards. Thranduil caught him and eased him to the ground beside Legolas.

"Bring a healer's bag!" Thranduil shouted. "Elrohir, stitch the wound closed!" Thranduil turned Elladan, he could feel the remaining power ebbing through the elfling before him.

"It wasn't me." Elladan whispered. The rage he had felt earlier on the wind had departed, and in the remnants he felt the familiar, compassionate presence, a presence that was kind as summer. He collapsed in exhaustion and knew no more.

"You have my thanks elfling." Thranduil whispered and sent a prayer of thanks to Eru for their benevolent protector.

When Thranduil looked up he saw Haldir approaching. The Lorien Marchwarden met his eyes. "Haldir, how did you know that we would need your aid?"

"Lord Elrond foresaw it." Haldir replied.


	7. Chapter 7 The return of Elrond

The swirling zephyr sifted the sandalwood trees, caressing the slick surface of the leaves. It sumptuously ambled over the neighboring wisteria vines, selfishly coveting the scents of buxom flowers. It skirted south over the silken sand bending to brush the burnished surface of the Anduin waters that were painted in the passionate shades of the sinking sun. The zephyr kissed the mist droplets suspended above the meandering river that flowed sinuously southward. It spied the majestic crowns of the Mallorn trees framing the riverbank and suddenly coveted their long pale green leaves. Crossing into Lothlórien the breeze slowed to lick the top of the Mallorn leaves and savor the velvet texture of their silver undersides. The zephyr stroked the smooth silvered trunks and swirled among their interwoven branches. The breeze sighed completely fulfilled by these simple sensual pleasures, its original purpose and destination long forgotten. The sun rose and fell and rose again, not distracting the wind from its amorous pursuits. The sky grew dark as night fell again.

The wind was drawn like a moth to a flame into a clearing that was lit by a golden glow. Its way to the light was blocked by two dark-haired beings whose sorrow was easily transmitted to the surrounding atmosphere. These large beings altered the wind's path creating an eddy as the wind whirled about, playing with their long silken locks. Tears fell from the silver eyes of the star maiden nearby, and the breeze kissed the tears away. Next to her a golden haired beauty held the hand of a tall silver Lord. They stood singing and calling to someone. Intrigued, the wind studied them weaving around the circle of five beautiful beings until it perceived the glowing form of a golden elf standing in the center. The spirit on the wind was drawn ever closer to the bright beacon in the center.

"Elrond, Mellon-nin." Whispered the golden one in the circle's center. "Come back to us." Tears slide down the elf's cheeks and he opened his arms wide. The breeze swirled about his golden hair and drew on the light of Aman that was emitted from deep within his being. A connection, perhaps Valar blessed, sparked between them. He felt the bright soul of Glorfindel, his friend of five millennia and recognized the love flowing into him from his children and their grandparents. Their love drew him back into this world. The breeze now an iridescent shimmer of blue kissed their faces and slowly turned to settle into the outstretched the arms of his Seneschal, gradually solidifying into the shape of the beloved Peredhel.

Glorfindel wrapped the slim figure in a cloak. He pulled Elrond close to him, wishing to shelter him. He engulfed the still figure in a gentle embrace and sent a prayer of thanks to the One. A feeling of joy swelled in all of them at the confirmation that Elrond was alive, that his unique spirit was returned to them. Elrond's eyes were closed and his lips curled in a contented smile.

"Slowly." Glorfindel's soothing voice floated through him. "It takes time to reconnect the spirit and the body, my gentle breeze. Believe me, I was rehoused."

Galadriel bent down over them and peered under the blanket to check the spots where her son-in-law had been wounded. Most of the wounds were healed and were now marked only by pale pink skin, except for the wound on his shoulder, which was weeping slowly.

Glorfindel carefully lifted Elrond, who seemed as light as an elfling. Slowly the seven of them returned to the flet. They gently laid Elrond on the bed. Galadriel retrieve some healing supplies. Gently they unwrapped the cloak covering Elrond. He was still far too pale, but the ashen grey sheen of the poison was gone. Red blotches dotted his left arm, but most of the wounds had healed well. Only the shoulder wound was still raw. They treated it, bathing it with water and oil infusions, and packed healing herbs against it before bandaging it. Elrond did not stir. Elladan brought soft clothes and they gently eased them around the sleeping figure. Finally, they covered him with the warm blanket.

Arwen and her brothers could not stop themselves from gently touching their father's hands. They took turns to brush his forehead and kiss his cheeks. Against all odds he had been returned to them.

Glorfindel settled unobtrusively in the corner, ever the Seneschal, content to silently guard his charges. Galadriel stood near the head of the bed, behind her seated Grandsons and assessed the condition of Elrond's spirit. She heard the jumbled melodies of his song even through his deep slumber. She recognized the danger of losing him to the seductive wind. Looking up she met Glorfindel's eyes and smiled reassuringly.

_"Keep him safe and bound to us this night." _ She said directly into seneschal's mind.  
_  
"As always my Lady." _ The seneschal returned wordlessly.

Celeborn was standing behind Arwen, gently comforting her. "Do not worry, my Evenstar, the greatest danger has past. Your Ada will be well given rest and our care." Arwen twisted to embrace her Grandfather. Her uncontrolled tears wet the shoulder of his robes. Galadriel eased past her grandsons adding her embrace to Celeborn's to comfort her Undómiel.

"Let him rest. We all need rest too." She wisely advised. "Goodnight my dear ones." She kissed her three grandchildren. Then Galadriel and Celeborn led Arwen from the room. The twins departed briefly to wash and change, leaving their father under Glorfindel's watchful eyes.

The Golden Warrior concentrated on his bond to his dear friend. His heart stirred with joy when he felt images and feelings pour into him through the bond. Elrond was sharing some of his experiences as wind, no words to thwart the communication. The images were breathtakingly beautiful. He noted that Elrond's spirit was the jumble of dissonant melodies that lacked its usual binding theme. It immediately concerned him. Glorfindel opened his own mind to share memories that would remind him of the wonders of elven life and love. These memories would ground him in the corporal world.

_Glorfindel's memories washed over Elrond. "You love him, Glorfindel." Came Celebrian's voice. "Why do you not tell him?" She asked._

__

"I love him dearly." He said truthfully. "He is the brother of my heart. I would do all that is within my power to keep him from harm. He has suffered too much already." Glorfindel replied.

"I love him too. I want to spend my life with him." Celebrian replied in earnest.

"Are you strong enough? Do you understand all it entails?" Glorfindel asked, pausing to study the elleth before him. A very young Celebrian looked curiously back at him. "As Peredhel the choice will lie before any children you have together. Would your love turn to hate should any or all your children chose the fate of his brother, Elros, should they chose to become Edain? If he shares his heart fully with you, he will not survive your love turning to scorn."

Celebrian looked up at him, her eyes filled with love and determination mixed with tears. "Glorfindel, should the One bless our union with children, it will be our joy and honor to love and guide them into the majority and beyond. It will be our joy to treasure them for as long as we are blessed with their company. But we cannot imprison them. Their lives and choices are their own, even if they all chose they way of Lúthien." Love beamed through her eyes.

The memory changed. A fragile Celebrian looked up at Glorfindel. "Please," she pleaded. "Take care of him in my place."

"We both love him. I think the Valar bless you with this brotherhood to strengthen you both. It is we, weak wives, who have both abandon you both."

"Never weak Celebrian."

"I fear for Elrond. In my dreams he never arrives in the Blessed Realm. He becomes a part of Arda, a houseless spirit on the wind, remembering naught of what once was." Tears leaked from her eyes.

_"I will bring him to the blessed Realm, I promise. We both love him." Glorfindel solemnly promised._

He rejoiced as he felt the song of Elrond's spirit grow stronger, and he guided him towards some of his most joyful cherished memories. They were memories of their laughter, of picnic with the children, of song and celebrations in the Halls of Imladris. Both Glorfindel and Elrond drifted off into a restful slumber, contented by the blissful recollections. The dark haired elf lay asleep on the bed. The golden one resting comfortable on the chair nearby with one hand gently and protectively resting on the dark one's arm. The twins entered the room silently. Elladan checked his father and upon finding him deep in healing sleep settled down next to him on the bed. Elrohir curled up to sleep on the couch. Both loathed the idea of leaving their father even for a short while.

Xxxxxxxxx

Soft voices recalled Glorfindel from his dreams and he opened his eyes, releasing a sigh of contentment.

"Ah, Glorfindel, you are awake." Elohir's voice rang clear in the morning air. "I will get us breakfast while Elladan stays with Ada." Glorfindel blinked away the fatigue and rose slowly. "Enjoy a bath and get dressed."

Glorfindel turned to study Elrond and noted that he was now in a light healing sleep. His heart sped up at the thought of Elrond waking soon. He resolved to bath and dress quickly. He was braiding his hair when he heard the twins knocked and called to him.

"Come to Ada's flet. We have breakfast ready." Elrohir announced with his old enthusiastic air.

When Glorfindel finally emerged again into the flet, he found both twins bending over their father and holding his hands carefully as if they feared he might disappear yet again. Upon Glorfindel's entrance, Elladan stood, quickly closed the distance between them, and embraced him with a warm hug.

"Thank you for guiding him back." Elladan said, his voice shaking in an effort to mask his tears. " I feared he would be lost to us." Elrohir joined their hug, expressing his gratitude as well.

"You all helped as well." Glorfindel chided. "Truly, I have always thought of Elrond as my brother. You children I have loved as part of my own family."

"You have always been a special part of our family, Glor." Elrohir said, his eyes smiling with mischief. "Daernaneth said that in bringing Ada back, your spirits bonded as true brothers!" Both sets of identical grey eyes pierced Glorfindel. "Welcome to the family, Uncle Glor!"

Glorfindel smiled, he could not hide his joy at feeling the strong bond between himself and Elrond. The twins smiled and hugged him tightly. Elrond seemed to stir slightly but did not wake.

"Come Glor. You must be hungry. I managed to keep a few bites out of Elladan's big maw." Elrohir laughed and Elladan punched his shoulder playfully. In truth they had brought enough breakfast for eight or ten elves, and Glorfindel looked questioningly at them.

"Do not worry others will soon be joining us." Elladan laughed and they were soon drinking tea and enjoying breakfast together.

"Ada!" Elrohir cried when he noticed the grey eyes open. A small smile played on his father's pale face.

_"It is good to see you, my sons." _ Their father's gentle voice floated into their minds, though the thin lips had never moved. In fact, the only obvious movement was a slow blink of his eyes and the steady rise and fall of his chest. They were at his side in an instant. Elrohir hugged his father first then propped a pillow behind him to raise his head slightly.

"Can you grip my hand?" Elladan asked puzzled at how limp his father appeared. Elrond did not have control over his limbs and all he could was frown slightly as he concentrated at trying to feel his fingers.

_"No, I'm sorry." _Came his thoughts again into their heads.

"Worry not Elrond, it takes time to readjust." Said Glorfindel reassuringly.

_"Thank you for guiding me back, Golden One." _Thought Elrond. _"Galadriel comes."_

"Yes, I do!" she laughed as she and Celeborn entered the room with Arwen close behind them. The twins graciously relinquished their places beside their father, and Arwen and Galadriel replaced them. Arwen kissed her father and slowly began to massage his right hand and fingers.

"It will take a little time, Elrond. But you should be up and around in time for the Council next week." She smiled. Celeborn handed her a small cup with a warm, foul smelling liquid. Arwen gently lifted Elrond's head as Galadriel helped him take a sip and massaged his throat to make him swallow.

_"What is this?"_ Elrond wondered wordlessly.

"Mithrandir assured me it would help you reacclimatize." She said. He could already feel warmth spreading through him accompanied by a pleasant tingling sensation. Soon he was able to swallow on his own, his tongue pleasantly warmed by the tea, though oddly, he couldn't taste it.

"I don't think you actually want to taste or smell it." Arwen laughed, easily reading her fathers thoughts. "It definitely smells more vile than anything you have ever brewed." Elrond looked up at her, raising his eyebrow in question.

"You moved your eyebrow!" Elladan gasped. "I guess that draught must be working." Elrond's eyes twinkled, his face suddenly able to express his jolly mood. His heart filled with happiness at being alive and being near to so many he so dearly loved.

"Hello elfling!" Teased Mithrandir, entering the scene. "You gave us all quite a shock. It is good to see you alive and in solid form for a change." Elrond felt Mithrandir take his left hand and Vilya stir at the presence of its sisters. A short burst of energy traveled between their hands gently rolling through Elrond, who closed his eyes and released an audible sigh.

"Thank you " Elrond's voice a mere whisper tone.

"You spoke out loud!" Arwen rejoiced.

"Give him time." Mithrandir said slowly." He will recover fully."

"We have to fatten you up!" The twins rejoiced. "You are but skin and bones."

Celeborn smiled at their antics. "Go fetch a simple broth and some bread for your father." He ordered swatting the twins away.


	8. Chapter 8 Historical prejudices

Galadriel watched her son-in-law closely, searching for both mental and physical injuries that might be plaguing the half-elf. The guard around his mind was temporarily down, and he was like a small child, his thoughts easily read by all within the flet. Her grandsons had helped their father drink the broth and eat a few bites of bread. He still could not move his limbs and his eyes displayed his great weariness. All in the room held their breath, as they perceived Elrond's thoughts turn to the simple pleasures of the wind. They were fearful that he might slip from them again. Arwen gripped his hand firmly.

"Ada, stay here with me!" She commanded. "You are not wind. You are an elf." The word echoed hollowly through Elrond's mind, dredging up unexpected and unwanted memories.

"_You are no elf. You are an abomination, a mutant!" A voice hissed in Westron._ Elrond closed is eyes as if the memory caused him physical pain. _"You are not one of the first born. Why should we allow you to live, freak!" Said a voice in Quenyan. _

"Elrond," Galadriel coaxed, gently stroking his head to break the hold of the memory. "Your heart has always been of the elves. Dwell not on dark memories. Think instead on your time with Celebrian." The Lady of Light closed her eyes in concentration and sent the son of her heart into a deep and dreamless sleep. When she was sure that Elrond would not stir, she turned to address her family.

"Worry not, your father's physical injuries will heal fully. He is strong, but he battled the mental abuse of the Nazgul as well as poisons from Mordor for nearly a week. The guard that he has always held around his thoughts has been severely weakened. He will need our support as he recovers. We should not leave him alone. I will try to shield and protect him from others while his thoughts remain unguarded." Galadriel explained. They all nodded in agreement.

"How long will it take him to regain his guard over his thoughts?" Arwen asked.

"He is extremely weary. I imagine that it will take much of the week to recover. As he gradually regains control of his body, he will also be able to strengthen and rebuild the barriers around his mind." Galadriel said. "I ask you to realize that his private thoughts are just that. Any memories or thoughts that you perceive without his permission should be kept private. It will be difficult enough for him to deal with the experiences of the last few weeks. It will take many weeks for him to regain use of his left arm. I am sure that will cause him much frustration."

"Daernaneth," Elladan said slowly, considering his words. "Has Ada suffered much prejudice due to his peredhil heritage?"

Celeborn sighed and answered for his wife. "The first age was not known for its tolerance, Elladan. The elves of Sirion loved and cherished their peredhil and chose Eärendil and Elwig to rule over their city. But Sirion was the exception. Unfortunately, the majority of the elves of Sirion were slaughtered by the sons of Fëanor. Those that survived settled in Mithlond or eventually sailed west. There was much hatred between the first and second born and even animosity among the different houses of elves. You are most familiar with the differences between the Noldor and the Sindar and Teleri. All regarded each other with suspicion at best." He looked up to his wife to continue.

"After their release from Himring, Elros and Elrond traveled far. Elros settled down with men and chose to be counted among them. The Edain were far more accepting of the twin sons of Eärendil, and they met their distance cousins. Elrond did not feel that his destiny was with the Edain." Galadriel paused considering her son for a moment. "He came to Mithlond to search for survivors of Sirion and to meet Gil-Galad. Under the High King's protection, he blossomed and made his choice to be counted among the Firstborn. Your father became the youngest elf in history to be appointed to the High King's council. But outside Mithlond, he often encountered prejudice."

"In fact, much to our shame" Celeborn continued, "your father nearly died on his first diplomatic mission. He was just shy of his majority according to elvish tradition and came with a small group to Eregion. His new appointment was widely known and debated but we did not foresee such animosity. On his first night in the city, he was set upon by an angry lynch mob of elves who despised the idea of his mixed blood. Ironically, he was saved by a large group of dwarfish artisans, who were returning to their camp outside of the city gates. They had fortuitously stumbled upon the mob." The three grandchildren sat stunned and wide-eyed at this information. "Those responsible were caught and prosecuted."

"Ada was lynched by elves?" Elladan scammered.

"Yes, he was." Glorfindel admitted "and he had a number of other close calls afterwards. When I first returned to Lindon, I quickly became friends with your father and all to often I was pressed to act in his defense. I have joked that you twins often find trouble wherever you go but that was much more true of your father. "

"But Ada is a capable warrior!" Arwen interjected.

"Yes, he is." Glorfindel agreed. "But one alone, no matter how capable can be overwhelmed. Over time though, your father overcame much prejudice and earned the respect and loyalty of many in Gil-Galad's army. Eventually, he was named Gil-Galad's herald and then his second in command. Then finally Gil-Galad named Elrond his heir."

"Did you ever wonder why your father waited over a thousand years to propose to your mother? They loved each other from the beginning, but your father felt unworthy of her and could not bring himself to expose Celebrian to such danger and prejudice. It was his hard work that built Imladris into the haven of acceptance and tolerance that you enjoy today. He forged a safe haven where he could finally consider raising a family. Surely, you realize that among the Elvin Kingdoms, Imladris is unusual in this respect."

"It is hard to picture Ada as an orphan, experiencing such hatred." Elladan said slowly.

"I read much of the history of the First Age. Yet I always had a hard time reconciling my Adar with the person as in those tales." Arwen agreed.

"He experienced so much sorrow." Elrohir added.

"Yes, he has been through much sorrow." Glorfindel agreed. "But remember your father has also experience great joy." The three elflings shook their heads in wonder.

"I need some time to think. I'm going to check on Legolas." Elrohir muttered.

Elladan nodded hopping up. "I'll come with you."

"Remember Elladan." Galadriel warned. "Do not tell Legolas or Thranduil of your suspicions about how the injuries were healed. No one outside of this room, except for the other bearer, knows for sure that your father was entrusted with one of the three. If I could change the past, I would not let you three learn this information either. This knowledge puts you all at risk."

_In the house of healing._

Thranduil sat studying his son. The prince was still deathly pale, his eyes closed in deep healing sleep. He had yet to wake since he the forest incident. The healers assured the King that his son would recover, but Thranduil would not rest easily until he saw those blue eyes open and heard his son's voice.

The journey back to Lorien was undertaken with great haste. The Mirkwood prince had miraculously survived a wound that should have sent him to Mandos but he still hung precariously close to death. Thranduil and Elrohir tended him and constructed a litter to transport him. Elrohir settled his brother close by where he laid deep in a healing sleep for much of the journey. The other wounded were treated and stabilized by the healers that had accompanied the war Lorien force. Within a few hours they were ready to transport the injured the league that stood between them and the Anduin river. A smaller group had departed to retrieve their boats and bring them closer to the Mirkwood party. Thranduil had little memory of the journey, having had eyes only for his beloved son. A large party of healers and the Lord and Lady of Lorien themselves stood waiting as the boats crossed into the Golden Woods. The Lady and the healers treated Legolas for what seemed like days, while Thranduil sat anxiously nearby. He vaguely remembered Elrond's sons and Arwen visiting. The soothing words of the Galadriel sent him into an uneasy sleep.


	9. Chapter 9 Vulnerabilities

Elrond groaned and twisted against invisible bonds. He frantically pushed himself upwards trying to escape the feelings of claustrophobia. Something grabbed his wrist and he cried out and tried to escape, but he was too weak.

"Elrond! Mellon-nin! Calm down!" He felt his friend's soothing presence and opened his eyes. He glanced anxiously around the flet. It seemed small and suffocating like a prison. His heart raced in fear.

"Please, I need to be outside!" The desperation was audible in his voice. He struggled to his feet, trying to steady himself. His eyes darting wildly about like a trapped animal.

"It's alright, Mellon-nin." Glorfindel draped a warm cloak around Elrond and paused to consider if he should carry the elf outside.

"I can walk." Elrond said in a shaky voice.

"That might not be wise. This is the first time you are on standing on your own."

"I will walk!" Elrond stated emphatically his eyes flashing momentarily. Glorfindel smiled, happy to see this stubborn side reemerging. He wrapped his arm around Elrond's waist to steady him and they stumbled slowly out of the flet into the cool night air.

"You are safe here. It is just memories and they are in the past." Glorfindel reminded him.

"Do the memories ever fade? Do we ever escape them?" Elrond's soft voice was hoarse. Glorfindel pulled him into his arms.

"I still see Gondolin aflame. At times, I still wake with my heart full of that horror. One is never truly free of the memories but you, Elrond, helped me to live again. I can tell you that there will be yet joy."

"_Take him to the meadow by my mirror. It is secluded and I can shield him there." _Came Galadriel's voice in Glorfindel's mind.

"Let me at least carry you down the stairs, dear one." Glorfindel noted. He felt Elrond relax as the night air swirled around them. He took it as a sign of agreement and quickly hoisted the elf into his arms. They descended from the flet, ignoring the curious glances of the other elves. They were nearing the secluded clearing when Elrond stirred in protest.

"I wish to walk." He stated softly. Glorfindel complied, happy to have come so far already. He gently deposited Elrond on his own feet, steadying him carefully. The wind swirled about Elrond in greeting and with Glorfindel's support he took slow shaky steps towards Galadriel's retreat. Another arm slid around Elrond's waist from the opposite side and Glorfindel smiled a greeting at Thranduil.

"Be careful of his shoulder." Glorfindel warned the Mirkwood King. Elrond was too deeply concentrated the simple act of walking to notice Thranduil.

"How are you Elrond?" Thranduil greeted. Glorfindel answered for him.

"He recovers slowly. This is his first walk since …" He paused, shaking his head and changing his mind. "He is stubborn." Thranduil laughed, startling Elrond, who swayed and looked up.

"Thranduil?" Sounded Elrond's somewhat confused voice.

"Mae govannen, Mellon-nin" Thranduil smiled.

They had made it to the edge of the clearing when Elrond squirmed out of their grip to lean against the silver trunk of the nearest Mallorn. Closing his eyes slightly he sighed in pleasure at the tree's song of welcome. Galadriel and Celeborn glided towards them.

The song mutated in Elrond's mind as memories assaulted him.

"Elrond!" Called Glorfindel in warning. "Do not be swept away by the dark memories." But the images had already overwhelmed Elrond's mind.

"_Half breed Noldo." Came Thranduil's anguished voice as he stood over the body of his father in a battlefield scene from the last alliance. "You Noldo are a curse to all you touch."_

_Maedhros overpowering voice sounded as his enraged face swam into view. "Peredhel!" The word slid like a curse off his tongue as he closed his grip around the small neck. "Even your mother despised you abandoning you for a stone."_

_The images changed flowing one into another. A barbed arrow flew towards the golden prince and the wind howled in despair. Water, he was struggling to break the surface of the water to gasp a needed breath. But a dark haired elf whose eyes blazed with hatred held him firmly underneath the surface. Then before them was the battered visage of his beloved Celebrian, the light in her eyes having faded to a dim glow. "It was you that we hunted. I took her in your place. You are to blame!" Laughed the Ulairi. Elrond tried to steady his breathing but the memories were powerful and choking in their darkness. _

_Uncontrollable visions came next: Galadriel chained in a dark dungeon her eyes glimmering defiantly; the twins armed for battle in a sea of soldiers; Celeborn holding his sword high before a Ulairi seated on a winged mount; and Thranduil mustering a large force under the shadows of Dol Goldur. _

"Elrond!" Thranduil's and Glorfindel's voices broke through the images and they gripped the peredhel's hands tightly. "Come back to us!" He felt the wind's song and the pulsing of Vilya.

"Mellon-nin." Thranduil whispered with sudden realization. "It was you who warned us. It was you who saved Legolas! How can I ever repay you?" Thranduil's gratitude poured forth as he gently embraced the trembling figure. Elrond's eyes slowly focused and he recognized the King of Mirkwood.

"Legolas?" His worry clearly ringing in his voice.

"He is recovering." Thranduil assured him. "He was awake and talking this afternoon. The twins are with him now." Thranduil felt relief sweep through the half-elf as the Golden seneschal held Elrond protectively.

"Areder?" Elrond gasped and Glorfindel could feel his worry for the youth and for the other warriors from Imladris.

"Almost recovered." He smiled reassuringly and hoped Elrond would not inquire further. The youth was indeed nearly healed, but there had been many injuries and one casualty among their party. Galadriel approached with a glass of a silver viscous liquid.

"Drink." She whispered, raising the cup to his lips and placing a hand on his head. She gifted him strength through her touch. Elrond drank and settled.

Thranduil sensed the weakened state of his friend's spirit and softly began to sing a lay of spring and rebirth, a traditional song of the Woodland Elves. Glorfindel added his own voice and soon the Lady and Celeborn joined their voices to the song. Elrond relaxed under the gentle rejuvenating music and fell into a restful sleep.

Thranduil contemplated the elf before him. Surely, the peredhel held one of the three. He would not speak his suspicions aloud, as such revelations would plunge his friend into yet more danger.

"_You are wise among elves, Thranduil King." Came Galadriels voice in his head. "Yet I fear that his elflings have inadvertently learned this secret and they are not nearly so wise." _

Celeborn produced a sleeping roll and they eased Elrond on top, covering him with a light blanket. The four Eldar conferred together.

"His spirit will recover faster here in the glade surrounded by nature." Glorfindel noted.

"It was unfair of me to blame Elrond and to discount his Sindar roots." Thranduil lamented.

"That memory was from a long time ago. What is said in anger is not always a true reflection of our heart. I am sure that Elrond does not hold it against you." Galadriel soothed. She produced a tray with food and wine and proceeded to pour them each a drink. They sat for a while in quiet contemplation.

"Were they memories or visions?" Thranduil asked.

"Most were memories." Galadriel confirmed. "But the last few were visions of what may or may not come to pass."

"Have you seen this vision in your mirror?" Celeborn demanded, meeting his wife's gaze directly. It was understood that he referred to the image of her imprisonment.

"No," She whispered truthfully. "That I have not seen." Her eyes fell. Celeborn embraced her.

"I will not allow it to happen." He swore.

"Such foresight is a terrible burden." Thranduil observed. "I would never wish such a thing on anyone. What happened to Elrond? Why could I feel his presence in the wind? It was he who warned us of the impending attack." Glorfindel then relayed the story of the past few weeks. Thranduil's eyes grew ever wider as the tale progressed and he studied Elrond's now peaceful figure, suddenly viewing the elf lord with a new perspective. He eyed the bandages that swathed the half-elf's shoulder with concern.

"Do we know the identity of the dead istari?" Thranduil inquired.

"Mithrandir believes that it was one of the blue wizards, likely Alatar, based on the staff and other items that Glorfindel and Haldir brought back. But he is troubled because Alatar and Pallando were inseparable and always traveled together. That it was one alone suggests coercion or some form of mind control." Celeborn concluded.

"We should warn others of the possibility that the blue wizards have been compromised, especially Radagast the brown. He has always been a friend of the forest creatures and of the Woodland Elves." Thranduil noted.

"I think that Mithrandir has already sent messagers." Galadriel assured him.

"How is it that I could perceive Elrond's mind? How could see his memories and visions so clearly?" Thranduil asked turning to Galadriel. "I have not your power."

"His mind is weary from the long fight with the ulairi. I think that in another day or two he will recover enough to guard his thoughts." Galadriel explained.

"The images were all dark and foreboding."

"He has lived through much torment in these past weeks. But he survived as have you and Legolas." Celeborn noted.

"There is yet hope." Galadriel raised her glass, pausing momentarily. "To joy! To hope!" She offered.

They all raised their glasses in tribute.

"To hope!" They chorused and drank together. The wind swirled in agreement.


	10. Chapter 10 Road to recovery

"_Uncle Glorfy! Uncle Glorfy!" _

"_Eärendil, you can not come in until the meeting is over." Tuor sighed. Never mind trying to explain to the child that Lord Glorfindel was not his Uncle. "Have you escaped from your Naneth?"_

"_Naneth here." A guilty look passed over the child's face momentarily before he pulled on the golden warrior's leg. "Up! Up! Up!" _

"_Thank goodness our King was not here today." Glorfindel snickered softly as he bent to lift the toddler up. Shrieks of delight caused the elves in the vicinity to cringe. Downy wisps of golden hair finally covered the two year old's head. _

"_Fly birdy!" Eärendil_ _held his arms out wide. _

"_It looks like he will inherit his Naneth's hair coloring." Glorfindel predicted. _

"_That is not yet certain. For children of men, both eye color and hair color often evolve during childhood. Eye color is usually set by the time they reach the first birthday, but hair color can darken through childhood." Tuor laughed at Glorfindel's astonishment. _

"_Eärendil, where are you?" A melodious but exasperated voice called from the distance._

"_Fly Papa!" Exclaimed the child as he reached for his Adar. _

"_Papa is not going to keep you safe this time." Tuor tried to put on a solemn face. _

"_Glorfy!" The child's voice suddenly deepened. _

Glorfindel opened his eyes in confusion. Above him the silver undersides of the Mallorn leaves glistened in the soft glow of the torchlight. _"Galadriel's meadow." _His mind supplied as he turned to assess the restless sleeper nearby. Elrond's eyes were closed and his brow was furled in pain. Glorfindel's heart ached to relieve some of the Peredhel's burden. An ancient soothing lullaby sprang automatically from his lips as he gently caressed the silken hair. A soft swish of robes across the grass caused him to look up.

"A draught to keep the pain and memories at bay." The white lady's voice was rich and succinct. She was a distant cousin of his, but her astute eyes seemed to detect the guilt and conflict in his soul.

"My daughter would approve." Her smile was like a rush of water washing his soul clean. White cloth and golden hair floated down as she knelt next to them. He instinctively slid his arms under Elrond's head and torso, carefully avoiding putting pressure on the bandages that protected the healing ribs and the abused shoulder. He lifted the limp figure toward a sitting position.

"Drink ion-nin." The feminine voice commanded as a crystal goblet met the parched lips. Lids opened to expose blank silver eyes caught in the Lady's power. Glorfindel counted each swallow until the deceivingly delicate hand moved the goblet from his friend's lips. "Sleep now." The command seemed to swirl around him too as Elrond eye's closed once again. The dark head turned into a golden embrace. Cool lithe hands helped them settle back against the Mallorn as Glorfindel resumed the soft lullaby.

"His spirit is battered and vulnerable, suddenly lost and isolated."

"Celebrian feared." Glorfindel struggled with an explanation, but at Galadriel's smile of understanding he continued humming the lullaby.

"He has ever had to swim against the current. He only ever shared his burdens with my daughter. Now she is gone. What a relief it must have been to experience total acceptance, to be carried along as an intricate part of a whole. If Celebrian foresaw this, then there is little wonder that she feared." She leaned in to anoint her cousin's golden head with a kiss. "She was wiser than I, in finding you. Sleep brave warrior. Elrond will rely on your strength and care in these next weeks."

"He shall ever have my strength." He whispered as his eyes closed. _"And my heart." _

Glorfindel awoke to movement from the soft head that was settled on his chest. Dawn light filtered down through silver leaves. The breeze carried the fresh smell of wildflowers. The song of the Mallorn greeted the elves snuggled at its base. He smiled as Elrond stretched in his sleep, still unaware. The actions made the blanket slip off them slightly. The peredhel shivered as the cool air invaded his snug cocoon. He opened his eyes and blinked dazedly trying to focus on the small clusters of golden flowers that adorned the Mallorn. The wind swirled around them, as if trying to entice and enchant. Glorfindel bent his thoughts to his yet weary friend. He could perceive the low murmur of alien words in his friend's mind. _"Never lonely, joint and complete, loving part of a whole" _rang the enticing words. Glorfindel shivered at the sinister undertone of possession. An image sprang to mind of the wind ripping Elrond away._ "You belong to us!" _ But in the same moment came Elrond's steady tenor, independent and self-assured.

"_Could you bless us with some flowers?" _The playfully request evoked a joyous response. Glorfindel could feel the wind's laughter as it answered Elrond's call. Flowers floated down to settle about their hair.

"Is that a condoned use of the such an heirloom?" Glorfindel laughed to hide his own alarm at this new dimension in the relationship between the bearer and the wind. Elrond turned in shock at finding his pillow had actually been the golden warrior's chest.

"Forgive my liberties." The peredhel muttered. His face blushed in embarrassment as he quickly tried to rise. A muttered oath of pain followed as Elrond fell back against Glorfindel. Gentle hands were quick to offer comfort.

"There is nothing to forgive. Let go of your pride. You have given so much of yourself to help others. Surely, you can be allowed something in return. Let me help you. It will be days until you regain your equilibrium and many weeks until your shoulder heals. There is no need to hide your injuries."

Glorfindel carefully drew them both to sit against the Mallorn's sympathetic trunk. He gave Elrond a chaste kiss on the head. "We have a slight reprieve before your children arrive to pamper you."

He tipped Elrond's head to look deeply into the silver eyes. Pain and melancholy were written there. Melancholy seemed a puzzling emotion considering all Elrond had been through.

"You look much better. Your color has returned. Truly, how do you feel?"

"Small." Elrond flinched as he flexed his good hand. The forlorn tone of voice startled Glorfindel. Dark silken strands stirred in the zephyr. Although Glorfindel could no longer hear its siren song, he knew that the wind still wove its seductive appeals.

"I, for one, am overjoyed to have you back." Glorfindel focused his spirit towards the precious dark-haired elf. He felt the elf tremble. The wind curled around them as if it were battling for the elf in his arms. He remembered Galadriel's words. Perhaps candor was the best approach. "I doubt anyone can understand what you have experienced in flying with the wind, it must have been incredible. "

"I have never heard the Ainulindalë, the Great Music of the Ainur so clearly before." Elrond divulged the dangerous desire. "The melodies are so entwined – all encompassing." Elrond closed his eyes as his soul yearned to give itself over to the wind's call. Glorfindel's eyes widened with understanding.

"Do not keep these feelings hidden." Glorfindel gently coaxed. "To be engulfed in something greater. It must seem a deafening loss. But your melody is still part of a greater whole, even though you are of solid flesh and bone again. "

"Too quiet. Isolated."

"You were wrapped in the symphony. Aye, Elrond I know it is beautiful and bewitching. But you would be lost were you to give into it again. We almost lost you." Glorfindel swallowed thickly as he ran his fingers through the quiet peredhel's hair. "There are other ways to connect with others. It is different but no less lovely than being part of the wind. Celebrian would miss you. Your children would miss you. I would miss you." He pulled Elrond so close to the Mallorn's trunk that they were now touching it. Then Glorfindel closed his eyes and focused on his connection to Elrond. He felt vulnerable sharing the song of his fëa with Elrond. But his fears were unfounded. Tears of joy and wonder flowed down the beloved features.

"Your song is no less wondrous. Do not let it slip away as wind." Glorfindel whispered soothing words, gently rubbing the half-elf's back as the beloved figure finally released all the built up fear, pain, anxiety, hope, and longing of these last days. His soul thus spent, Elrond dozed in Glorfindel's protective embrace. The dawn blossomed shyly into morning. Glorfindel's stomach grumbled as he heard the twins approach. They were carrying a basket and pack.

"Good morning Glorfindel. How is Adar?" Elrohir knelt and helped ease his sleeping father on to the blanket.

"His shoulder pains him. The wind battles for his attention." As if in response, a blustery breeze rustled the leaves. Glorfindel told of the things he had observed. Elrohir carefully unfastened the tunic, exposing the shoulder bandages. The area surrounding the wound was swollen and tender but thankfully not infected. Elrohir bathed the area with fresh herb and oil infusion then began to weave a healing song. Female voices joined in. Glorfindel looked up into the concerned faces of Arwen and Galadriel. He added his voice to the song.

"Why is there not more healing?" Elladan worried as he braced the arm securely in a sling. The bone had sustained damage, and he would not risk dislodging a splinter or fragment.

"Fear not, he is healing well." Their Grandmother stated reassuringly. "The injuries were severe. His back is nearly mended. There is more healing here than I would have expected. Perhaps you and Elladan need some remedial training to properly gauge the healing process. As I recall it is usually your Adar or Arwen who minister to your injuries."

"And who must endure your endless complaints." Their Grandfather teased as he smiled warmly at their waking patient. "Good morning Elrond." Confusion swirled in the silver eyes before they brightened and returned the greeting.

"Good morning. It seems I am at a disadvantage. I apologize for rising so late." Elrohir and Glorfindel helped him to sit up and scooted over slightly. A smile of relief graced his face as he leaned against the Mallorn's sturdy trunk. He moved his right hand over the bandages that covered his damaged shoulder. They could sense his pain and dismay over the injury. "Do you need to check it?"

"I changed the bandages already Adar. Outwardly, it looks like it is healing well. But it will take some time for the ligaments to knit together." Elrohir infused hope and optimism into his voice. A distraction was needed. He gently guided his father's hand away from the wound as took the seat on his father's right. He playfully pulled at his father's fingers.

"You will need to wait until it heals properly before you can begin to exercise your hand, arm, and shoulder." Arwen smiled mischievously at her Adar's raised brow. As a Master Healer, he was well aware of the healing process. "Then, I think you should join our sewing circle. Healer's orders! It would be the perfect exercise to rebuild your strength and dexterity." Elladan puffed up his chest and spoke in falsetto.

"Lord Elrond, mighty with the needle and thread."

"I am sure you will be the talk of Greenwood." Elrohir finished for his brother, who could no longer hold back his laughter. Arwen had unfolded a small table in front of her father and began to spread out an enticing breakfast complete with strawberries and a new type of fruit that Mithrandir had discovered in one of his recent southern sojourns. Some of the Lothlórien farmers were trying to cultivate it in a green house. She smiled as she noticed that she had captured her Adar's full attention. Thoughts of earlier times, when he had first encountered this fruit, swirled in his mind. It was a heady experience to suddenly have the power to read someone's mind, especially someone as usually inscrutable like her Adar. She did not recognize her father's companions from long ago. It was such a temptation to take advantage and delve further. Little wonder that her Grandparents were carefully protecting him. Making a conscious decision to respect her Adar's privacy, Arwen focused on the fruit before her.

"Is that pitaya?" Elrond was intrigued.

"Mithrandir called it dragon fruit." Elrohir laughed as he conveyed the wizard's story.

"Have you tried it before?" Arwen smiled knowingly as she sampled a piece. "Delicious! Daernaneth, perhaps I can take some seeds to grow in Imladris."

"It is fruit from a climbing cactus and needs a very warm climate." Elrond tried to extract his good hand from his sons grasp. The other hand was useless as it was immobilized in the sling.

"I might be convinced to share with you Adar." Elrohir teased.

"You will need to agree to their demands before you sample any of the succulent fruit." Glorfindel warned as he nabbed a ripe strawberry and ate it dramatically. Galadriel and Celeborn watched with amusement as Elrond agreed to submit to Arwen washing and braiding his hair before he received a few bites of pitaya fruit and a strawberry.

"What other liberties will they negotiate?" Glorfindel whispered to the Lord and Lady.

"Let us leave them to their own devices. They are certainly an effective distraction."


	11. Chapter 11 Mystery of the Istari

"This is intolerable!" The old man vigorously complained.

"All visitors are being sequestered as a precaution." The Marchwarden replied steadily. He gave a signal and additional warriors emerged from their clandestine positions to more than double the number of guards. The Marchwarden repeated his request more forcefully. "Your guards are to relinquish all weapons. We will guide you to a secure position until our council can meet you."

"I came invited as an ally. I will depart if I am to be treated as an enemy." The Istar stared coldly at the warrior. His Edain guard tensed.

"Alternatively, you could return from whence you came. It is your choice." The Marchwarden was not to be intimidated. The Istar paused for a long moment than came to a decision. Then he nodded slightly in acknowledgement and spoke commands in Westron to his entourage. The men lowered their weapons slowly. The Golden warriors moved among them, gathering up the armaments.

"I would know the reason we are being subjected to such treatment?"

"I am not at liberty to say. Our Lord will brief you in due time. However, the wizard Mithrandir arrived a week ago and Radagast arrived this morning. Both are now subject to these restrictions. You have all been assigned quarters in the same grove. Your men may reside in the neighboring grove."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Elladan sat next to his father in the steaming medicinal bath.

"Do not be so heavy handed when making the healing draught tomorrow." Elrond complained with slurred words. His head already rested against Elladan's shoulder.

"Ada, there is no need to suffer when a simple draught is available." Elladan slid his arm more securely around his father. His kept his next thought to himself. _"I do not want to see you suffer ever again."_

"So sleepy …. Ion-nin." Elrond's eyes flickered closed.

"Sleep then Adar. I will keep you safe." Elladan kissed his father's head and listened quietly as his breathing evened out in sleep.

"It has been thirty minutes. It is time to get out." Celeborn and Elrohir helped Elladan to carry the sleeping Peredhel from the pool. They dried him and laid him on his stomach on a low wide cot. Elladan pulled the long hair up above his Adar's head, then combed it out and twisted it in a towel, so it would be out of the way. Arwen would braid it later.

"It is difficult for a child to care for a parent's injuries." Celeborn observed kindly. "But we dare not risk exposing your father to others who might seek power by probing his mind."

"We would not trust his care to any one else." Elrohir said as he gently positioned his father's arm and bent to kiss the dark head.

"He is healing slowly." Celeborn pulled up a chair and opened an opaque jar. It was an aromatic mixture of sage, rosehip seed, alliums and helichrysum oils, which he had been applying twice a day to Elrond's back. The worst of the lash marks had already faded to silver.

"Will there be permanent marks?" Elrohir's voice trembled.

"The salve is very effective. We will make sure to apply it for the next two months and there will be no scarring." Celeborn warmed the brown waxy solid in his hands and applied it in long gentle strokes to his son-in-law's back. Warmed, the solid melted to a viscous liquid, which glistened over the silver and pink lined skin. There was still bruising around Elrond's wrists and over the two spots on his side where ribs had been broken, but hopefully, they would fade within the next week.

"You should curtail your need to drug your Adar so deeply. This massage should no longer cause him any pain."

"But his arm and shoulder still pain him." Elrohir was applying salves to the arm, which was dotted with fading pink circles.

"The internal damage will require more time to heal." Celeborn's lips quirked upward in remembered mirth from the twins' turbulent childhood. "Once it does, can I count on you to make sure that your father performs the exercises required to rehabilitate his arm and shoulder?"

"Will you never let me live that down?" Elrohir complained through a choked laugh.

"Hiding in a tree by the river to escape strengthening exercises for your healing arm. Followed by _the _incident." Celeborn kept his face solemn as he gently massaged in the oil. The bright laughter of Glorfindel rang out.

"I could not help overhearing. Were you reminiscing about _the incident_?" The warrior took a seat on the bench. "The brave elfling scared out of a tree by an owl and falling in the Bruinen? Were those exercises really so terrible?"

"Aye, I was but fifteen and they seemed horrific." Elrohir could now smile at the youthful transgression. "But we will be happy to make sure that Adar does his exercises religiously." At the last word his smile faltered slightly.

"When we were very small, Adar used to lead us in evening prayers at bedtime. I had not realized that he said them morning and night."

"It has been inspiring to perceive some of your Adar's prayers." Celeborn wiped his hands on a towel and capped the jar. "He has endured so much and yet his faith is so very strong.

"He thanks Eru each morning and asks for guidance in serving him and all his people." Elladan's voice expressed his awe. "It gives me much to contemplate." Glorfindel squeezed Elladan's shoulder in support and added his opinions.

"I think it is best that we not tell him what private things we have perceived, unless he specifically inquires."

"I do not think your Adar realizes that his thoughts were thus exposed. I agree with Glorfindel that this knowledge would distress him unduly. However, this morning I could no longer hear his prayers. As he regains his strength, the barriers around his mind will naturally strengthen. Galadriel feels that in another day it will be safe to allow the other healers' access to your father. Master Faelant, in particular, is the expert on methods for encouraging the regeneration of nerve and ligaments. We must be hopeful that given time your father will regain his full range of motion."

Xxxxxxxxxx

"Mithrandir, is it true that you have suffered these restrictions for a week?" He eyed the scrapped gray wizard with frustration. "You could find more suitable attire. There is no need to romp about in such ragged clothing."

"Although my freedom of movement has been curtailed, I have not been treated with anything but respect. I would hazard to guess that you would take similar precautions if two sets of travelers were waylaid on so close to Isengard." Mithrandir turned his attention to the other Istar. Radagast had given a curt nod of greeting and ignored them in favor of his conversation with the sparrows. "As for the clothing, the Lady has provided some rich robes for me to wear to the council."

"You think it still wise that we align ourselves with elves who turn on us at an instant?"

"Were you not treated with due respect? The elves have just cause to tread carefully. Both the Imladris contingent and the envoy from Greenwood were attacked. The Lothlórien guard prevented a massacre near the border. It would seem that our enemies had knowledge of our planned gathering. That speaks of spies in our midst."

"And from this they conclude it is outsiders versus one of the elves?" Saruman said disdainfully.

"The Peredhel was captured and tortured seemingly by one of the Istari."

"There is proof of this? Did he recognize him?"

"I recognized the staff they brought back. It was definitely the one that Alatar had carried on his journey east. But the other items, I could not identify. Neither Lord Elrond nor Glorfindel had met Alatar before."

"You have seen the Peredhel?"

"Yes, once nearly a week ago. He is lucky to be alive."

"I have had no word with Alatar in many years. I assumed that he and Pallando met an untimely fate."

"It seems that at least one of them turned to evil before leaving their hroa for Mandos."

"But you said that Elrond had never met him. It may not have been one of the Istari."

"Lord Elrond recognizes the Istari for what we truly are."

"How is that possible?"

"For that answer, one needs only to consider the Peredhel's heritage."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"You look like an elfling in these clothes." Glorfindel teased as he stepped back to admire his handiwork. The comfortable tunic was roomy enough to cover the shoulder bandage yet allowed Glorfindel to adjust the sling that immobilized Elrond's arm. The baths were empty but for the two of them, partially due to it being almost noon but also due to Galadriel's precautionary measures for isolating her son-in-law from others.

"I would rather be able to dress and take care of myself." Elrond sighed. "Ow!" He glared at Glorfindel who had pulled his hair.

"Sorry," Glorfindel did not sound at all penitent. "In a couple months you should be as good as new. Until then you will have to put up with others taking care of you. Arwen is late. Shall I comb this out and braid it for you?"

"Yes, thank you." Elrond's mood brightened. "Can I count on you to forgo the ribbons and decorations that Arwen seems to favor?"

"Ah, the butterfly!" Glorfindel laughed. "She seems to want you to have the coiffure of an elleth."

"She means well. But I would hate to think what Ereinion would say if he saw me." Elrond had to laugh as well.

"He would think you had finally lost it." Glorfindel parted the long silken hair and started to braid it. "Or he would laugh and say that your daughter has you wrapped around her finger. Good thing that Galadriel is limiting access to us. Otherwise, I would have to convince Arwen to style your hair in a manner more fitting for an elf Lord."

"Have all the council members arrived?" Elrond was worried that he would not be recovered enough to participate.

"We are still waiting for the Dúnedain contingent. It is a good excuse for resting for a few more days. There!" He stood back for a minute to scrutinize his work. "Well it is mostly straight. Are you up for walk? It would be good for you." He helped Elrond to rise, and they slowly meandered towards the meadow.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"You must be Princess Arwen." A pearly voice caught her attention. She turned to see a deceivingly elderly figure with long white hair and snowy gray beard. The name Mithrandir almost sprang from her lips. For the gray wizard was the closest in appearance to this unknown man.

"You must be mistaken for I carry no such title." She met his smile serenely but neither refuted nor confirmed his speculation. She assumed he was of the Istari. But he did not seem the type to commune with nature as she had heard was the case for Radagast. Was this Saruman or one of the blue wizards? She tried to hold back a shiver at that thought. The evidence suggested that one of the blue wizards had attacked her Adar. The wizard sensed her fear. His next words were laden with kindness.

"You appear a true Princess indeed, a child of moonlight and one of the fairest of the children of Ilúvatar. It is only your father's humility that kept such royal titles from you and your brothers." The man stepped forward but paused as Arwen retreated. The silky voice dispensed flattery. "I have heard you are formidable healer. I have been experimenting with techniques for regenerating nerves after burns and other injuries. We have made some interesting advances, which I would be happy to share with you. Is not the pursuit of knowledge paramount? For without it how can we help others?"

"I see no healers bag. Who are you?" Arwen felt a strange power and song surrounding her. She remembered her Adar's teachings as well as the coaching from her Daernaneth. _"Focus your strength around your core being. Use it as a barrier. Do not let a stranger invade your thoughts." _She raised the barriers around her thoughts and felt the stranger's surprise. Was he a friend or foe?

"I am Saruman of the Istari, at your service Princess." He smiled disarmingly as he sketched a polite bow. The melodious voice continued. "It is good to see that the gifts of Aman still run clear in the youngest of your house. Only a scion of the house of Finwë would have such mental acuity and only one of Lúthien's line would be cloaked with the light and song of many kindreds." Arwen's eyes widened but her voice was gracious in return as she sent barely detectable signals to the elven guards who appeared oblivious to the wizard's presence.

"It is indeed an honor to meet you, Saruman of the Istari, Leader of the Council." Her words were respectful and sweet, although her heart screamed of danger. "It would be my pleasure to continue our conversation; however, I am on my way to attend my Adar. Perhaps Rúmil would escort you to the guest Talans?" Rúmil and Saerhel bowed politely and gestured in the direction of the visitor's quarters. Orophin stepped up protectively next to Arwen.

"May I offer my services and knowledge in the healing arts?"

"Thank you for your kind offer, my Lord. We will surely call on you if your expertise is required." A glance at Rúmil was all it took for Arwen to convey her unease.

"Please follow me, Lord Saruman. Lord Angon kindly requests your presence. He now has time to update you on our situation."

"Ah, yes, your Seneschal finally deigns to meet with me." The affronted Istar turned to bid Arwen goodbye and reached for her hand. "Farewell my Lady. It was a pleasure to meet you." He bestowed a faint kiss on her knuckles as protocol required but his eyes bore into hers as he looked up, and he tested her yet again. She knew he sought any thoughts that might be secreted away. Her mind rebuffed for a second time his powerful probe. He gave no indication that he was surprised or dismayed but followed the guards graciously. So she bent her mind towards him in response.

"_What are you?" _She wondered for she sensed the shell of an aged man was just that – a shell that concealed a different type of being. She suddenly detected a melody of the type she only heard around her Adar, although this one was much louder and all encompassing. She felt a fire sweep through her at the enthralling song.

"_That does not concern you." _Came a voice in her head. She looked up. Saruman had turned back towards her. His dark eyes betrayed a mix of anger and surprise. "It seems you are an enigma Princess." He called back to her.

"I will take that as a complement. Good day my Lord." She smiled and waved to hide her inner distress. Her very blood seemed to burn at the sound of that song. The pain was increasing. Her only thought was to get away. She pivoted abruptly. The swish of her dress gave the impression of affronted royalty.

"Arwen?" Orophin hurried after her. The Lady did not respond and seemed to be heading in the wrong direction.

"Lady Arwen" Orophin finally dared to take hold of her arm. She was trembling and did not seem to hear him. He grew bolder and cupped her cheek in his other hand. "Arwen!" She shivered and finally acknowledged him with a nod. Although he had known her all her life, she did not seem to recognize him.

"Arwen, what is the matter?"

"Where are we?" She glanced around in confusion. "Where is Ada?"

"He should be in your Grandmother's meadow." Orophin was now very concerned.

"I need to see Ada." Arwen waved her hands helplessly. Orophin grasped her cold hand firmly in his own.

"Come, I will take you to your Adar." He half pulled half coaxed her forward. She rubbed her temple absently and took no notice when they stopped to talk with the warriors who were guarding the meadow. When they came within sight of the Peredhel Lord, she seemed to awaken and run to him.

"Ada!" She embraced him hard. Glorfindel saw him flinch in pain, but Arwen held on tightly as she laid her head on his good shoulder. Her eyes were tightly closed as she burrowed against him.

"Arwen?" Elrond felt her tremble. He bent his spirit towards hers to lend her strength. Surprisingly, she accepted it like when she was a child. She was listening attentively for the song of his spirit. He felt more than heard her sigh of relief as the burning pain and desire of her blood eased slightly through the connection of their song.

"Arwen, can we sit down? I need to sit down." Elrond whispered as he tried unsuccessfully to hide his discomfort. Glorfindel worked to pry Arwen's hands from their spot over his friend's tender ribs. Then he eased them to settle on the grass against the Mallorn's trunk. Reluctant to take his eyes off the pair, Glorfindel stepped away to talk with Orophin. The Galadhrim spoke softly about what had transpired.

"Thank you for bringing her. Go and let Lady Galadriel know what you have observed." Glorfindel dismissed Orophin and turned his full attention to the Peredhil. Elrond was singing softly. It was a long while before Arwen spoke.

"The Istari are Maiar cloaked in the flesh of men?" Arwen shivered.

"The Istari that I have met appear to be of the Maiar." Elrond replied. "Few know this to be the case."

"You know because you can hear their song?" Arwen continued.

"I can hear it. Glorfindel sensed something unusual about them as well."

"Is that how you knew to be wary of Annatar who was revealed as Sauron?"

"We could both sense deception in Annatar." Glorfindel sat on the other side of Arwen and slipped his hand into hers. "A Lord of Gifts?" He scoffed softly.

"What of Mithrandir and," she hesitated slightly, "Saruman?"

"I have not sensed deception from either. I have spent much time with Mithrandir and know his heart seeks to protect the children of Eru."

"Good people can be turned towards darkness, like the Istar or Maia who hurt you."

"Yes, we must be ever vigilant. Everyone – be it an Elf, Dwarf, Edain or Maia is susceptible to temptation and might chose to follow evil."

"But if they are Maiar, why are they here?"

"Mithrandir said that they were sent to help in the struggle against Sauron. Five of them accepted this charge and were made incarnate. In the process they gave up much of their power and some of their knowledge."

"Saruman?"

"Saruman is proud and a great Lord in his own right. He is the leader of the White council and does not suffer fools. But pride is not to be equated to evil. Pride can be a very good thing, one that drives people to be good citizens and to take care of others." Elrond paused as Glorfindel spoke up.

"I have not sensed deception in him. He is a powerful ally. But as with anyone, we should be wary. What happened when you encountered Saruman?" Glorfindel prodded gently. Arwen relayed the encounter, dwelling a while on the Istar's attempts to probe her thoughts and how she had bent her thoughts towards him in response. She tried to put into words how it felt to perceive the Maia's song, but it paled in comparison.

"It was wrong of him to try to probe your thoughts without asking." Glorfindel traced figures on her palm to sooth her. It would not do to disclose his own feelings of anger that an Istar had caused pain to one that he loved like a daughter. These Peredhil who he had sworn to protect and grown to love still could surprise him.

"Perhaps you can share those thoughts with me? Perhaps I can help you make sense of them." Elrond squeezed her hand. "Do not feel compelled to do so. I only suggest it because they obviously trouble you. You could guide me just to what you want me to see."

"It may be that I was also in the wrong? I tried to do the same in retribution." Arwen shook her head in dismay. Then turned to meet her Father's eyes. "I could share those memories with you?"

"Just the ones you want. It is not a particular strength of mine. That is more your Grandmother's skill to read the thoughts of others. But she could not hear or experience their song like those of us who carry a drop of the same blood." Arwen nodded and grasped her Adar's hand. Glorfindel stiffened with worry as he watched them lock gazes. He waited helplessly as Lúthien's descendents sat oblivious to everything around them. It seemed ages until they came back to themselves.

"Arwen! Elrond! Are you well? Do you need anything?" Glorfindel was beside himself with worry. How could ten minutes feel like an eternity?

"A bit of Miruvor would be much appreciated." Elrond's voice was a mere whisper. Glorfindel nodded and rose to request Miruvor from the guards at the edge of the meadow.

"I am sorry Adar." Arwen kissed his cheek.

"There is nothing to be sorry about sell-nin (daughter). I think Saruman's curiosity caused the trouble. He is unlikely to ever underestimate you or your brothers again. Do you still feel the burning?"

"It is much less now. I remember when I was going through adolescence, how you and Naneth warned me that something like this might happen."

"The heritage of Lúthien must have been stirred by the song. So it was with Elros and I. Mithrandir has always been careful to protect you and your brothers from the Maiar songs."

"Elladan and Elrohir have not been awakened to these songs?"

"No, not yet. The song is so weak in us, diluted as it is. I did not think."

"The song of your spirit is beautiful." Arwen interrupted and admonished. Elrond paused, embarrassed that his own self-doubts had been perceived by his daughter. He did not want to think about other things she might perceive.

"The Maiar serve the Valar. Their spirits communicate by the song. They are never alone. It is our isolation, our separateness, I think that cause this longing and pain. Your brothers are usually together, perhaps that will be enough for them to help each other if or when they experience the songs."

"You spent time among the Avari to learn how listen for the song in nature."

"I will teach you." Elrond paused.

"Their song is much louder in the wind." Arwen read his thoughts with ease.

"I guess your Daernaneth is correct in keeping me sequestered if my thoughts are that readily perceived."

"This has been a draining conversation." Arwen smiled as she sensed his feelings. He messed her hair in mock retaliation.

"Yes, when I traveled as wind, I could hear not only the remnants of the Maiar songs but also more intricate melodies of the Ainulindalë." He shivered, and she hugged him carefully.

"I am so thankful you were returned to us."

"As am I, my Undómiel."

"Ada tell me again of how you met Eonwë, when you and Elros were young." Arwen squeezed his hand in support as she waited to hear the bittersweet tales from her Adar's youth.


	12. Chapter 12 Council Members

"The incident would have been avoided if you had told me directly instead of speaking in riddles." Saruman accused sharply now that they were settled back into their grove. It seemed as if the elves avoided them here.

"Far be it from me to cause offense to you the leader of our order by insulting your keen intellect. I though it would be stating the obvious." Mithrandir's genial voice gave nothing away.

"The Princess was not what I expected. The Lady will be righteously angered and suspicious of all of us."

"Then, may I suggest you bow low, admit your guilt, and apologize profusely?" Mithrandir nonchalantly pulled a pipe from the pocket of his robe. Fire danced from his finger to pass slowly over the top of the dark dappled crushed tobacco leaves. The top layer smoldered, filling the air with a burnt aroma.

"I did nothing that requires an apology! How could a drop of Maiar blood still endow them with the music?" Saruman frowned at the gray wizard who had pulled out what seemed to be a jester figurine perched on a platform that fit squarely into the top of the pipe. "Cease with that ridiculous custom!"

"I could secure one for you for the right price." He motioned to the tamper as he used it to tap down the charred leaves. Saruman let out a long loud breath. One could almost hear him counting silently. Mithrandir was not perturbed and passed another flame over the top of the pipe. "And to think that three eights of Edain blood brought so much ridicule and discrimination upon their Adar."

"A blending that affords products whose worth are more than the sum of their parts." Saruman muttered to himself. Both jumped slightly when a strong calloused hand landed on Mithrandir's wrist.

"Neither the trees nor the elves appreciate your smoking implement. Please desist." The Galadhrim ordered.

"Ah Marchwarden, you are late." Mithrandir greeted him warmly as the fire in the pipe smoldered and smoked. "I expected you after the initial char."

"You know our rules and customs. Why do you disregard them?"

"It is always good to test the vigilance of one's allies." Mithrandir motioned to his seated companion. "I expect you seek the most skilled of our order." Haldir nodded.

"Lord Saruman, the Lady requests your presence in the council chambers."

"Are we to be subjected to yet more restrictions?" Saruman rose haughtily.

"I am not privy to the matters that concern our Lady."

Xxxxxxxxx

Arwen was cuddled next to her Adar visibly drawing comfort in the soft overture of the remnants of his Maia heritage. Glorfindel settled blankets around them. He was well able to sense darkness and evil. After a thorough check, he was much relieved that both his charges were unharmed and in healing sleep. He vowed to explore the events of the meeting between Arwen and Saruman further. The first reports indicated that the wizard was guilty of trying to use his powers to probe what had happened to Elrond by reading his daughter's mind. Obviously, the wizard had not anticipated that Elrond's offspring would be powerful in their own right. There seemed to be no evil overtures or lingering malice. However, Arwen's Maia heritage had been awakened. What might that mean for the future? His thoughts were interrupted by the soft swish of fabric. He looked up to find the Golden lady bent near her Son-in-law and Granddaughter.

"She finds comfort in a song that I can not perceive." The power of her voice engulfed him.

"Why is that so troubling, Granddaughter of Finwë?"

"Can you hear it?" Her eyes drove deep in his. Perhaps she thought that as a reborn, he might be able to sense it. He shook his head negatively. "If I could have detected it early. I would have warned Celebrimbor. We might have barred the Maia from our city or at least dissuaded him from sharing their knowledge and forging a collaboration with Annatar. Elrond and you were able to persuade Gil-Galad to turn him from Mithlond."

"The time for regrets is long past."

"Yet, here we have two who can detect the presence of other Maiar regardless of their form. We know not if Sauron or one of his brethren can travel as spirits through our borders. Their sensitivity is an advanced warning. Prudence indicates that she should remain here in Lothlórien."

"Are not Celebrimbor's gifts enough?"

"There may again be a time where we dare not use those gifts. Yet, I had hoped that Arwen might soon return with her family to Imladris. No matter what, I sense that her time with us is short and that each day together should be treasured. I fear that her Adar does not foresee this or he would insist that she return."

"He was grieved by visions of her choice." Glorfindel whispered.

"He knows?"

"Visions are only what might be, and yet the only visions of Arwen included her following in Elros' footsteps."

"At least we can pray that her brothers choose otherwise. A parents' worst fear is to lose a child to death. But at least death for an elf offers a hope of rebirth. We know not what awaits the second born."

"Elrond was even more shaken by horrible visions of her death. Her choice to live among men often drew the enemies' attention with unspeakable consequences. There were few paths to victory over this foe. Only a single flash of her as a Queen of Men held any hope for the future." He hesitated to reveal Elrond's vision of sailing west alone.

"Visions are only what might be not what will be." Galadriel repeated even as she prayed for the lives of her loved ones.

"That he knows. But it is a small consolation."

Xxxxxxx

"Welcome Arathorn." The Golden Lady greeted the Dúnedain chieftain as he stepped up onto the platform. "It has been long years indeed since one of the royal line of Elendil visited these woods."

"Thank you for your gracious hospitality. May I introduce my son, Argonui." The Dúnedain chieftain had led his people for fifteen years. At just over a hundred years of age, he was in full strength of mind and body. His son had by elven count only recently completed his sojourn in Imladris and accompanied his father for the experience.

"Welcome young Argonui." The Lady smiled and the next words were spoken mind-to-mind. _"You will lead your people well when your time comes." _

"Welcome to Lothlórien." Celeborn spoke. "Your traveling party is small."

"We did not wish to impose on your hospitality." Arathorn explained. Just two warriors had accompanied them on their journey.

"Your people are wary of our woods and ways." Celeborn held back a smile at Argonui's reddening cheeks. The young man had indeed been anxious about entering the Galadhrim's forest. "Worry not, for you have friends here. Elladan and Elrohir are expecting you." As if on queue, Elrond's sons appeared.

"Argonui! Arathorn! Welcome to Lothlórien." Elrohir pulled the young man into his embrace.

"Did you encounter any trouble on your journey?" Elladan was unusually serious.

"We overran a small group of enemy scouts."

"No injuries?" Elladan's voice wavered slightly.

"We are well." Arathorn read the elf's worry. "You were not as lucky."

"We had three major battles. One was only won because it was here at the border of Lothlórien." Elrohir reported as the Dúnedain gasped. Arathorn realized who was absent.

"Lord Elrond?"

"Adar was gravely injured." Elladan reported as his brother stepped up beside him.

"But he is healing."

"He will recover." Celeborn said firmly as he laid a supportive hand on Elladan's shoulder. " Our guests need to relax after their long journey."

"We will show them to their Talan." Elladan said as Elrohir pulled Argonui's greasy hair.

"And help them clean up." He teased as he led the Dúnedain to the stairs. "Penneth, have you forgotten all we taught you about hygiene? You have to be presentable if you are to greet Adar and meet our sister."

"Sister?"

"Surely, after all your years in Imladris, you did notice the women in our family portraits? Our sister Arwen resides here in Lothlórien."

"I trust she is better looking than you." Argonui dodged his former teacher's playful punch.

"Of course she is." Elladan smiled. "She is also my sister. So, do not get any ideas."

Xxxxxxxxx

"What is your opinion about his recovery?" Glorfindel watched the healer crush a handful of carefully measured pungent herbs and mix the resulting green and tan powder with quantity of boiling water.

"It is too soon to say for sure. But considering the cause of those injuries, he is doing tremendously well." Master Faelant turned his attention back to making the draught. For long minutes the only sounds were the spoon clicking against the side of the mug.

"His shoulder and arm are still very painful."

"The pain is a good sign. It indicates that the nerves are intact." The healer measured out some honey and whisked in a small spoonful of a white powder.

"He does not want a sleeping draught."

"He is teaching Lady Arwen some type of method for mediation. From what I observed, you should probably administer this soon as he will fall to sleep from exhaustion." The healer handed Glorfindel the hot mug.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Relax, sell-nin (my daughter). There is no right or wrong way to meditate. There is no time table or grade. It took me much of a year to hear the song. I could hear it best through the wind and trees. Elros heard it best in the waves of the ocean. Only you can discover the special way it will speak to you." Her father grasped one of her hands. She could feel his soothing song spread through her.

"Adar do not drain yourself." She worried aloud.

"Close your eyes and reach out with your senses. What do you hear?" She closed her eyes and took slow deep breaths. At first she could only hear herself – the gentle whoosh of her breath and the slow thump of her heart. A small new voice joined these melodies. It was a screech-scratch of a cricket's wings. A lonely male cricket was trying to find a mate. He drew his right wing across his left, producing a crick-creek song called out into the distance. It's long antennae twitched as it realized there were no other crickets nearby. Finally, she heard the little creature sound a mournful note as it decided to move elsewhere. _"Silly cricket you should wait for dusk."_ She chided in her thoughts. But the insect gave her no heed. Its hind legs bent and then it sprang, jumping up into the wind. She felt the bird's pleasure as it greedily gulped down the tasty morsel.

"_Tasty treat!" The warbler declared as it invited her. It's reddish head turned towards her. She saw herself reflected in his glinting black eyes. "Fly with me."_ _He spread his wings and caught the up-flow of the zephyr. Her spirit soared, free as the bird. Higher and higher they climbed. A melody of life poured outwards, engulfing her in its rising notes. Together they climbed in altitude as the tune gained another octave. The swirling music of creation buffered her spirit and calmed the cravings of her heart. She recognized the notes of the Maiar – notes sung long ago at the beginning of the world. They glided along in the breeze, sweeping across meadows of green and gold. She felt the bird's ambition as it turned upwards. It's wings furiously beating to climb higher and higher. Her soul suddenly knew its purpose – an ever continuing struggle to improve oneself and to inspire hope in others - to work for the betterment of all. The bird interrupted her joyous epiphany. It dove straight downward in a perfect dive. The wind rushed around them. A heady, exuberance followed. _

"_I can do it." The warbler struggled toward perfection. The dark surface rushing up to meet them was the ground, she realized in fear and exhilaration. But just as she thought she would witness the end of this little creature's existence, it's wings turned a fraction and they curved at tremendous speed. Wind shrieked dreadfully around them as they made a graceful arch and danced across the blur of green, which could only be the meadow. _

"_Undómiel"_ someone was calling her name over and over. _"Who could it be?"_ She thought moments before the warmth and love of her Adar washed over her through the amazing elven threads that connected the Faer of their family. Adar, Elladan, and Elrohir were all well. The hole in her soul that once marked her connection to her Naneth was still painful. Perhaps it would always be so.

"_Undómiel."_ The call came more urgently. She realized that the voice was not inside her mind but was a regular spoken voice. "Time to leave mediation behind. Feel your soul sink back into your hroa. Feel the tingling of your fingers as they connect through your arm up to your shoulders. Focus on the breath of life and air running through you." Her eyes blinked open and shut rapidly as the brightness of the afternoon made them tear. Her Adar sat in front of her, pale and tired.

"Adar." She whispered hoarsely. She heard a small pop, as the cap to a bottle was uncorked. Water sang as it was poured into a glass. She opened her eyes again and accepted the glass from her Ada's unsteady hands. She drank of the refreshing liquid.

"You did very well sell-nin (daughter). Your talents are many." His voice was soft and gentle. She glimpsed pictures from his mind and recognized the Avari King. Memories from a young outcast washed over her.

"I have the best teacher." She drew back carefully protecting his privacy. "One who hears and experiences the Song in the same way as I do. You need to rest Adar." She studied his silver eyes and noted his pain.

"Glorfindel comes." He whispered.

"Glorfindel? I do not hear him." She blurted out in surprise. The extent of his powers always amazed her.

"You can sense his approach as well. Reach out with your mind. The trees rejoice at the golden spirit that passes beneath them." She was tempted to follow his instructions, but the depth of his discomfort stopped her.

"I will take your word on for now." She smiled and helped him ease into a more comfortable position, mindful of his arm and shoulder. It was not long until the trees announced the presence of Glorfindel's bright soul.

"Lady Arwen." Just the sound of Glorfindel's musical voice brought a smile to her lips. How could such an intrepid warrior infuse such humor and teasing into a simple name? He was bending by her Adar a moment later with a mug in hand. "I dare say it has cooled enough even for Erestor's _sensitive_ tongue." She saw a smile grace her father's face and not for the first time, she sent a prayer of thanks to Eru for the return of this amazing golden elf. Her Adar gratefully drank the bitter brew.

"Did you enjoy the mediation?" Glorfindel's expression indicated his opinion that meditation was a tortuous thing.

"Yes," she could not help but smile and she put on airs of mock arrogance. "Adar said that I am more talented than him. Perhaps you will have a new superior soon.

"Talent is no substitute for experience." Glorfindel said solemnly though the effect was ruined when he stuck his tongue out at her. Elrond's laughter was joyous music to them both. "I believe I have suffered enough carrying out your commands."

"A tea party does not count _Lord Glorfindel_!" Arwen continued in the same vein. "But you looked awfully pretty with all the beads and doilies in your hair. Perhaps we should revisit that experience." They traded verbal spars for some time before Elrond fell asleep. His face was peaceful as Arwen ran her fingers lovingly through his hair.

"Laughter is the best medicine." She felt much better for laughing too.

"You look better as well."

"The meditation was surprisingly refreshing and invigorating." She laughed quietly at Glorfindel's expression. "Really! My only regret is that the teaching aspect wore him out."

"I doubt it was the teaching. Sharing that experience with you is something he will always cherish. More likely, it is simply the late hour. He has needed a nap after lunch for the last several weeks. A healing body requires extra rest."

Xxxxxxxxx

"I had thought that I would be allowed to at least watch the proceedings." Argonui complained. "After all, I will eventually take my father's place among the council."

"Keep your sword arm up." Elrohir called from the side of the ring, as he watched the young Dúnedain and his brother spar. "You are getting sloppy in your old age."

"My old age!" Argonui laughed and took Elrohir's advice, meeting Elladan's thrust higher than before. This allowed him to step in and drive the peredhel backwards.

"Better!" Elladan praised as he sidestepped the next blow and pivoted. "Shall we break for a drink?"

"Yes." Argonui panted.

"You are not keeping up with your regiment if you are already tired."

"My competition is not as skilled as you two."

"I should hope not." Elrohir handed him a cup while Elladan bent to retrieve a towel.

"I think they wanted to discuss the events of the last few weeks in a closed session. We will be invited to attend next week."

Xxxxxxxxx

"How can you be sure that Lord Elrond has not been tainted from the Mogul poison?" Saruman questioned again. They had been discussing the incident for hours, though the Lady gave only a vague description of how they had cleared the poison from Elrond's blood. The full truth would expose the role of Celebrimbor's follies.

"We used an experimental procedure to purify his blood." Mithrandir interjected. "Although I would not recommend it unless there was no alternative. He is very lucky to have survived the procedure."

"Still there is no guarantee that the great Elf Lord has no fallen under the enemies influence."

"Lord Glorfindel was trained by the Maiar to detect evil." Lord Gildor interjected. "He detected no evil influences. I am satisfied. Lord Elrond is a valuable member of this council." In the end they voted to maintain Lord Elrond as a council member. The Peredhel appeared at the next morning's council session. It was to be a contentious meeting over the identity of the fallen Istar and the fate of his dark palantir.

"I move that we further examine the palantir to discern who or what now controls it." Saruman strong convictions were very persuasive.

"There can be no doubt that its master is evil embodied akin to Sauron and his minions. Those expose risked being poisoned in turn." Celeborn noted and scanned the faces of the council members as if to discern who might consider such actions.

"How will you prevent accidental exposure?" Gildor shivered at the mere memory of finding the palantir and throwing a cloak over it. "It radiates malevolence."

"It seems unwise to keep it here." Arathorn returned. "If the enemy sought to gain information on Lothlórien, positioning one of its devices here might give it a foothold."

"It is a trophy and device of your house. Are you not the least bit curious to inspect its powers?" Saruman focused on the Dúnedain chieftain.

"At one time it was used by my ancestors, but it has since been corrupted. I would not risk bringing such an evil token to one of our towns or villages as the enemy would surely seek to reclaim such a treasure."

"Perhaps you might battle its current master and bend it back to your will. Do not those of royal blood possess the mental strength to wield the heirloom?" When no one spoke, the honeyed voice of Saruman added a sorrowful rebuke. "I had heard the northern kingdom fell into ruin."

"The enemy had long sought to destroy Annúminas, though remnants of our people still reside to the north."

"Yet the enemy still possesses and wields your powerful heirlooms. Would it be not wise to strip them of this power?" Saruman argued persuasively. "At the very least it would render this stone useless to them."

"This is folly." Celeborn interjected. "You risk your very life in a battle with this unknown foe. It may be Sauron himself who holds sway over the stone."

"He was defeated long ago." Saruman countered. "Surely it is but some of his servants who hold sway over the bauble. A Dúnedain chieftain would win out over such foes."

"Defeated but not destroyed. Mithrandir believes it is his minions who darken Dol Guldur."

"Provide some tangible proof." Saruman voice stoked the fire. "It is much more likely that the Witch-king of Angmar leads Dol Guldur.

"Should Mithrandir simply walk into the enemy fortress to secure your proof?" Gildor scoffed. "He might never return."

"We should ban together to wipe evil from the forest." Thranduil interjected.

"At what cost? Perhaps the lives of every elf now in the forest would not be enough to overcome this foe." Mithrandir warned. "The power there is already very entrenched and their fortress will hold against a foe that outnumbers them a hundred fold."

"We should annex or coax the Rohirrim into our alliance." Saruman proposed. "The city-states of the horse lords are but loosely united. If they were united under a strong leader they could double our forces." At the suggestion, shouting broke forth from the normally calm council members.

"King Brytta would disagree. His tireless efforts to help all his people, especially those in villages decimated by the recent war with the Dunlendings have earned him the Rohric name of _Léofa_ or beloved." Elrond's tired voice caught only Glorfindel's attention. The reborn Balrog slayer repeated Elrond's words more forcefully.

"You have met with King Brytta?" Saruman's honeyed voice conveyed shock. "He has yet to grant an audience to my representatives."

"Our ambassadors have a long history with the Rohirrim." Glorfindel took advantage of the stunned silence. "They have taught their healers and fought beside them. Indeed, the Rohirrim hold Lords Elladan and Elrohir in very high regard."

"I move that we call them to this assembly to answer questions about the Rohirrim." King Thranduil advised.

"I second that motion." Lord Gildor spoke out. Saruman nodded affirmatively and as leader of the White Council, he called for a vote.

"All in favor?" The 'yeahs' were in the majority. "Then we will summon to appear before this council, the ambassadors from Imladris."

"It will take an alliance to drive this evil from Dol Guldur." King Thranduil spoke to Lord Celeborn. "There are few other peoples who would ally themselves with us in such an endeavor. The dwarves have been antagonistic of late and are more likely to join our foes than fight beside us."

"Even dwarves might prove fruitful allies." Mithrandir rose. "I do believe we should disband to give us all time to ponder what has been said and allow tempers to cool."

"I second that motion." Glorfindel raised his hand. The subsequent vote was quick and unanimous.


	13. Chapter 13 Friends discuss events

"Legolas! A prince should not use such colorful language." Arwen feigned indignation. The Greenwood prince blushed slightly as he drew another arrow and muttered under his breath.

"I have heard you say worse." His accusation evoked gales of laughter from the Peredhil trio. Elladan let his arrow fly. It caught the outer circle of the center ring. The Prince's arrow was only seconds behind and speared the second circle. Legolas let another expletive slip.

"Perhaps we should stop and partake of the snacks that Arwen packed." Elladan suggested. A low grumble came from the golden haired prince. "Besides, it is not a fair competition as you have barely been released from the house of healing."

"I should be fine."

"Legolas, you nearly died!" Elrohir protested. "Do not rush your recovery. Do not drive yourself too hard."

"The healers released me days ago."

"And told you to take it easy to do light exercise." Arwen smiled at the prince's reddening face. Then handed him a refreshing drink.

"Thank you my Lady." He bowed gallantly and accepted the glass.

"That is more like it." Arwen and her brothers laughed together. Although they tried to keep the conversation focused on light, happy topics, Legolas was pensive. Elladan finally confronted him. The whispered request held much anguish.

"What truly happened? When I ask my Adar he just swallows hard and says a prayer to Elbereth." Legolas' azure eyes pleaded for answers. What he had pieced together was that Elladan had somehow healed him. The twins exchanged a long look that prompted the impatient Prince to whisper. "I know it was a mortal wound."

"What do you remember?" Elrohir asked.

"I have never felt pain like when the arrow hit me. The pain and the fall stunned me. The next thing I can recall is Elrohir hovering over me but your eyes told me that it was too late. I could barely breath. It felt like I was drowning. Adar knelt by me. The world turned pale and seemed to dissolve in bright white light. Then all I remember is a flash of blue and a song." Legolas shivered at the remembered song, which held tantalizingly familiar melodies.

"I do not remember much either." Elladan whispered as he took his friend's hand. He was trying to find the words to convey what he had felt. He could still hardly grasp what happened. "The wind shrieked in anger and tried to encompass me in its control. I was fearful of its power until I sensed its benevolence. The song inspired trust, love, and hope. Somehow I knew it wanted to aid you. I opened my mind to it."

"You ran a great risk." Legolas breathed out in wonder. Elladan and Elrohir had recognized the song of their Adar entwined with Vilya. But to divulge such information would place their Adar at risk. "What happened next?"

"I felt a power rush through me and my lips move under another's command." Elladan trembled slightly at the remembered pain.

"It hurt you." Elrohir gasped.

"It felt like fire. I can only compare it to a burning sensation that flowed from the air into me and into the arrow shaft. I could sense how badly your lung had been damaged. They were filling up with blood. I felt the arrow slide out and the wounds stitch together." Elladan shook his head in a mixture of amazement and confusion. "The power started to falter and I willed my thoughts to aid it. All to soon our precarious connection shattered. I do not remember anything after that."

"King Thranduil caught you before you passed out." Elrohir continued. "I stitched up the wound, all the time praying that you both would be well. It was two days before Elladan woke."

"You have friends beyond this world." Arwen whispered reverently. "Thank Elbereth for this miracle."

"It must be nearly time for the council to break." Elladan rose. "I will go make up a draught for Adar if…"

"We will meet him, but I think we still have another hour." The siblings had promised to wait for him. They were now very protective of their Adar and with good reason, given his injuries.

"I will come too. My Adar will probably require a good sparring session to get rid of all the tension." Legolas gave a quirky smile.

"Perhaps but he will not agree to spar with you until you are one hundred percent well." Elrohir laughed at his friend's frown.

"You might be right." Legolas helped Arwen gather their picnic supplies while Elrohir folded the blanket. "How is your Adar?"

"He will be weary after a long morning in council. He should be resting not greeting people." Arwen worried.

"A short appearance will do much to reassure our people." Elrohir interjected. He did not know how his Adar had the patience to endure such coddling and restrictions without nary a single complaint. The twins both hated the long recuperation period after an injury. "We will be watchful and make sure he does not over extend himself."

"How long until he recovers?" Legolas immediately regretted the question as he saw the worry in his friends' eyes. He put his arm around Arwen, who he loved as a sister. "He will recover."

"The damage to his arm and shoulder was extensive. Master Faelant estimates it will take months for the ligaments, muscle, and nerves to regenerate. Perhaps by Yule, he will have healed enough to begin exercises to rehabilitate his arm."

"Yule?" Legolas repeated in surprise. A glance at Elrohir made him revise his next question. It was clear that Arwen did not want to contemplate the events that led to her father's injuries too closely. "Can he remain away from Imladris so long?"

"Glorfindel will make the decision about when it is safe to travel home. But Adar will likely need to ride with one of us for much of the journey." Elrohir predicted. "I pray he never sees combat again."

"That seems unlikely since the council is debating what to do about Dol …" Legolas revised his sentence at Elrohir's warning glare. He focused on Arwen. "Will you travel home?"

"I am not ready to go home." She admitted much to Elrohir's chagrin. She caught his thought and explained further. "Daernaneth would also like me to remain here for a while. She thinks that my new abilities to discern the presence of Maia would help protect Lothlórien." Elrohir bristled.

"They took no action against Saruman! He hurt you and they did not even punish him!" Since the incident, her brothers had become overly protective of her even here in the Golden woods.

"I am fine." Arwen soothed. She spent much time these days in meditation with either Galadriel or Elrond. "Besides, it was better that it happened while Adar was here to help me understand. He is worried that something similar might happen to you and Elladan."

"Still, Saruman's arrogance is nearly insufferable. He can denigrate his peers through a smile!" Elrohir stiffened at the memory.

"And here I had admired your poise at the council session." Elladan feigned surprise. "You were a model of poise and grace."

"I contribute that poise solely to all those diplomatic lessons with Erestor." Elrohir held his hand over his heart.

"If he is so over bearing to elves, how did he interact with Lord Arathorn?" Legolas inquired.

"We are not supposed to divulge anything that went on at the council." Elladan tried to hold a serious mien.

"As if my Adar does not complain enough about it to me!" Legolas laughed. "Besides, none of us would divulge anything outside of this circle."

"He makes me uneasy, the way he presumes his opinions are the only correct ones. The way he belittled the Men of Rohan nearly made me scream foul!"

"But you kept your composure and countered his assumptions admirably." Elladan praised.

"Had you not been there to bolster my arguments, he might have swayed the council."

"In what way?" Legolas was intrigued.

"Saruman believes that the nascent government of Rohan is weak minded."

"I think he called them a throw back to the ancient days of men."

"In the nicest sort of way." Elrohir's straight face was at odds with his tone. "How he could adapt a complimentary tone while insulting a people. He argued that it is our duty to shepherd these rustic and simple people into the present times."

"By 'our' he obviously meant him." Elladan laughed.

"You spent time among the Rohirrim."

"They have much to be proud of. They are a fine honorable people who are working to carve out a life for themselves in an often unforgiving world."

"You helped them during the plague that decimated many of the cities of men." Legolas remembered reading the missives from Imladris and Lake Town.

"We taught their healers how to take steps to prevent the spread of the illness. They are quick learners and resourceful. They took our advice and developed their own innovative methods."

"Is that not teaching?"

"I think in Saruman's mind self-determination is only for the old and wise." Elladan grimaced.

"He certainly was trying to determine the limits of our tempers." Elrohir clapped his brother on the back.

"He did not succeed in goading us." Elladan said proudly.

"You fell ill there." Arwen remembered a letter and looked at Elladan curiously.

"Not an experience that I would like to repeat. But that was well over two hundred years ago. And now it is definitely time to go to Adar. I will bring the draught." Elladan rose and departed. Elrohir turned to his sister and Legolas.

"It certainly gave us both greater respect for what the second born must endure. Their bravery surpasses us on many fronts as the dangers and struggles of their daily lives exceeds ours."

"Perhaps one day I will be able to meet these Dúnedain and Rohirrim." Legolas paused.

"Well at least today you can meet one or two of the Dúnedain." Arwen laughed. "The one I met just stared at me speechless."

"Stunned speechless by your beauty." Elrohir smiled.

"Or by my venerable age." Arwen bent over in an exaggerated pose of an old woman. Elrohir pulled one her braids while the Legolas laughed. "When he did say something, he definitely put his foot in his mouth." They were soon at the foot of the Mallorn that held the council chambers. Aran Thranduil and Lord Glorfindel accompanied Elrond down the winding staircase. The King's guard was only steps behind. Upon seeing the twins and Arwen, Thranduil and Glorfindel immediately released their friend into his children's care. Thranduil, for his part, only had eyes for his son.

"Ion-nin, I trust you were only doing light exercise." Thranduil ran his hands from Legolas' head down his torso.

"If you are finished your medical assessment, Sire." Legolas' voice dripped with satire.

"Sire? What is it that you want this time, Legolas?" Thranduil laughed as followed the crowd to a nearby meadow. The musicians were just tuning their instruments. Soon elves would refresh their spirits with food, song and dance.

The guards Lesamon and Gladant pretended not to notice their prince's antics. They stayed close by their Liege and his son. Given recent events, all the council members were accompanied by their guard, even in the relative safety of the Golden Woods. Most elves were unnerved by the thought that the leak concerning the timing of the council might have originated from one of their own.

"Elladan would have bested me." Legolas' disgust was evident.

"I doubt Greenwood's honor is in danger." Thranduil laughed lightly and sipped at the fruity wine. They found a table near the musicians. "Especially once you give yourself a few more days to heal."

Legolas looked over to where his friends were doting on their father. The elves visiting from Imladris were taking turns greeting their beloved Lord. They were obviously much heartened to see him. But Legolas thought the elder Peredhel looked drained and weary. One young warrior from Imladris was particularly overcome. Legolas could see that he shook with tears as he bowed before Elrond. The Elrond's face had that kind compassionate look that Legolas recognized. He was obviously consoling and telling him that all was well. The twins stepped up to embrace their young Imladrian as Elrohir led him aside.

"He looks much better now." Thranduil followed his son's gaze to where Elrond sat with his family. "You both nearly scared the life out of me."

"It was that close?"

"Yes." Thranduil put his arm around his son. "I could not bear to lose you."

"It is no good to dwell on what could have happened. I am safe now." They sat down to enjoy the music. Lesamon and Gildor joined them to debate the pros and cons of the three major routes between Lothlórien and Greenwood.

"What do you think Ion-nin?" Thranduil held back a smile as he saw Legolas visibly jump. The younger elf immediately stopped tapping his foot in time to the music and straightened. A guilty look was plastered on his face.

"Forgive me Adar." He stammered. "I was not paying attention"

"It is alright Ion-nin." Thranduil laughed. "You are young, and it is time to dance. Go ask your friend Arwen." She seems to be suffering from the same longing. Legolas looked across the meadow to where the Peredhil were animatedly talking, all except for Arwen, who sat silently, seemingly mesmerized by the dancers.

"Thank you Adar." Legolas rose and bowed to his Father before dashing off at a most unregal pace.

"Ah, youth!" Gildor laughed as Thranduil and the Captain of the Greenwood guard looked indulgently on the departing youth. Legolas tried to slow down as he approached his friends.

"Legolas!" Elrond looked up. "It is good to see you up and around."

"You as well, my Lord." Legolas executed a sloppy bow to Imladris' Lord, as he could not stop himself from swaying in time to the music.

"Someone needs a dance partner." Elrohir teased and even Elrond laughed.

"My Lady, would you fancy a dance?" Legolas offered his arm. Arwen was obviously torn between her desire to dance and her wish to spend as much time as possible with her Adar.

"Go enjoy a dance with Legolas." Elrond squeezed Arwen's hand encouragingly. "I am going to follow your brother's wisdom and go rest."

"My wisdom!" Elladan pointed his thumbs towards himself. "Did you hear that!"

"Poor Adar, he must be more ill than we thought!" Elrohir teased his brother good-naturedly. Elrond rose to his feet slowly to convince Arwen that he was indeed heading back to his Talan. Arwen and Legolas wished them a good evening and sped off to join the dancers.

Glorfindel waited unobtrusively behind the family in a deceptively relaxed pose. He stepped forward when his friend seemed unsteady on his feet.

"Elrond?" The Golden Warrior gently slid his arm around the trembling figure.

"Ada?" Elrohir called in concern. Their Adar glanced worriedly about them, only now noting how the warriors of the Golden Woods clothed in normal garb were strategically positioned about the meadow.

"I feel spying eyes." Elrond whispered haltingly. "Considering us with ill intent."

"I was wondering when you would notice." Glorfindel said lightly as if they were discussing a minor matter. He straightened Elrond's tunic, presenting a picture of a relaxed and supportive friend. Elrond followed suit, attempting a smile as he relaxed his stance.

"Arwen? Is she safe?" Elrond tried to keep his unease out of his tone as he turned to look towards the circle of dancers. It would not be suspicious for a father to look after his daughter.

"We noted this early and have taken special precautions to keep the council members and their families safe. Do not worry. Leave the responsibility to us and focus on healing." Glorfindel slowly coaxed his friend to turn from the circle.

"Daeradar would not take any risks with Arwen's safety Adar." Elrohir moved so that his Adar stood between him and Glorfindel. "Come, it is time to follow Elladan's advice and head back to your Talan. You need rest and we will explain things as we walk."

"Rest well Adar." Elladan stepped up to give his Father a hug. "I will keep an eye on things here."


	14. Chapter 14 Danger and the Dance

Thranduil watched his son and Arwen. They danced joyously as he sipped his wine. The two of them really did make a striking couple with gold and dark hair trailing beautiful behind them like a radiant halo. The tempo of the music increased but the pair fluttered gracefully along. Lillanlai often had hoped that their friendship would blossom into love, but the two young elves thought of each other as siblings and best friends. Thranduil sighed at the memory of his wife's laughter and sent a prayer of thanks to Elbereth that his son had survived.

"Such a friendship is to be cherished." Thranduil commented softly.

"Excuse me Sire?" Captain Lesamon asked in confusion.

"Legolas and Arwen." Gildor explained as he pointed to the pair. "They share a deep friendship."

"Such a friendship is to be treasured." Lesamon agreed and then turned back to their departure plans. He would do everything in his power to make sure his King and Prince remained safe.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Elrohir and Glorfindel gently guided Elrond back to his Talan. Both expected Elrond to interrogate them about the Galadhrim's plans to flush out the traitor in their mist; however, when Elrond did speak, his worries were centered on Arwen. His questions were few and that alone was out of character. Part way up the stairs, Elrohir noticed that his Adar's brow glisten with perspiration.

"Ada, does your shoulder hurt?" He drew them to a halt on the next landing and turned to face his father. The elder Peredhel looked pale and drawn.

"Yes," Elrond whispered. The simple admission spoke volumes. Glorfindel walked up a few steps to question the Galadhrim about who would be standing guard outside Elrond's Talan this evening. All agreed that Elrond's safety was a top concern. The injuries he had already endured would take much time to heal.

"Did Master Faelant's examination this morning caused you pain?" Elrohir asked but the furled brow and too shiny eyes gave the only reply. "I can mix up a stronger draught. This time with poppy juice."

"Not poppy." Elrond hated the side effects of poppy extract, which included a loss of control and potential for hallucinations.

"But it is the only thing effective against such pain." Elrohir countered as he and Glorfindel exchanged a long look. Elrond focused on the sky, which was just beginning to darken. Wind toyed with his hair and rustled his robes. Glorfindel was at his friend's side in an instant as if to ward away the seductive wind.

"Go mix the draught. I will get your Adar settled in the Talan."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Legolas loved dancing with Arwen. Their deep friendship meant that they could both forget about protocol and responsibility and simple indulge in their love of the dance. Neither wished to change this relationship. Given his royal heritage, Legolas had to be very careful about choosing an elleth to dance with. It would be at the very least an embarrassing situation if she got the wrong idea. Perhaps that is why he nearly gasped when Arwen leaned closer than normal and stroked his cheek with her hand. He was shocked speechless when she moved her lips closer. She could not be about to kiss him! But it was not amorous intentions that shown in her eyes but anxiety.

"What is the matter?" Legolas whispered, leaning towards her to complete the ruse.

"Someone is watching us. We are in danger." Arwen's voice was remarkably calm and steady. Her lips brushed his ear lightly.

"We are well protected." He squeezed her hand reassuringly and held on.

"But others could be injured."

"Are you sure it is both of us?"

"I will dance around the circle and see if they follow me." Arwen's finger's slid from his grasp before he had time to protest.

"Be careful." Legolas scanned the dancing crowd through warrior eyes. Indeed, he did feel unsettled by the gazes focused on Arwen. There was the usual awe that kept most elves from approaching the Lady of Light's Granddaughter mixed with something more malevolent. It seemed that she was indeed the object of unmistakable malice. He sent signals to the Greenwood Guard. They were well trained and would quickly inform his Father and Lord Celeborn. He scanned the dancers, giving the appearance of a suitor eager to see the Lady of his dreams. Now that he focused on her, he had to admit that she was a stunning beauty. Half of her dark silken hair cascaded behind her, while the sides were braided and gathered in a bun at the back. Her azure dress was embroidered with silver and clung to her enticing figure. She twirled back around towards him.

"Do not look at me like that." She perceived the change in his demeanor. "We are friends."

"Friends forever." He smiled and pulled her close by placing his hand in the small of her back. "But we should continue the ruse. I do not want you to leave the circle alone. If we were a couple, it would not look odd for us to go together." She tried to relax in his hold. He flashed her a winning smile. "Your brothers would never forgive me if I did not guard you well."

"You are a Prince not a guard."

"And you are Umdomiel the Evenstar of your people." He kissed her cheek lightly.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"Sit, Mellon-nin." Glorfindel sang an ancient song of peace as he guided Elrond to the bed. He removed the thin circlet that noted Elrond's role in Imladris, eased a soft sleeping tunic around him, and helped him find a comfortable position. Elladan entered carrying a healing draught.

"It does not contain poppy syrup. Master Faelant recommended it to ease the pain and grant a dreamless sleep."

"What is it?"

"You are the patient this time. Drink up!" Elrohir ordered in a teasing voice and motioned to the glass. Elrond complied and drank down the medicine.

"You and Elladan did well in front of the council. They are not easy to deal with."

"That is a colossal understatement!" Elrohir laughed as he held his Adar's hand. "The council of the wise is certainly not for the weak hearted."

"You were poised and well spoken. I was very proud of you."

"Thank you Adar."

"They were as impressed as I at your diplomatic ties to Gondor and Rohan. They voted in favor of you or Elladan filling my position should the need arise."

"We will have to make sure that there is never a need. For Elladan would not be happy if I volunteered him." Elrohir was heartened by his father's small uncharacteristic laugh. He smiled back as he felt for his patient's pulse at the wrist. The beloved silver eyes were cloudy. "Are you nauseous or disoriented?

"Suddenly a little dizzy." The rich tenor held an unusual sing-song quality. Elrohir pressed his finger to his father's wrist and assessed his heartbeat. Glorfindel stood quietly nearby. The silence was broken by Elrond's worried query. "Arwen? Is Arwen safe?"

"Yes Adar, Arwen is safe." He soothed as he released the now tense hand to Glorfindel.

"All is well Elrond. Trust us to take care of everything. Just rest." The silver eyes displayed anxiety, which only slowly dissipated as Glorfindel resumed the soothing song.

"Arwen?" Came the worried plea as the silver eyes fought to stay open.

"She is safe. Sleep Adar." Elrohir could not hold back a smile as his Father succumbed to sleep.

"You two get too much joy out of drugging your Adar." Glorfindel teased.

"Pay back." Elrohir grinned openly now that his Adar was sleeping.

"Aye, but the two of you did suffer your share of injuries and you were ever trying to do too much before you were healed." Glorfindel paused as he considered his friend. "Did the draught contain poppy extract?"

"No poppy but the mixture can produce heart palpitations, excitability, or anxiety in some besides bestowing pain relief and prolonged sleep."

"Did you sense all of those side effects in your Adar?"

"Do not fear, his heart was not affected. But perhaps his worry over Arwen was heightened by the drug."

"Or maybe not. Do you wish to go check on her?"

"It could be a diversion to draw us away from Adar. I would rather that we made sure he was well-protected. Between Daeradar, Elladan, and Aran Thranduil, Arwen has more than enough minders."

Xxxxxxxxx

Thranduil caught his breath when he looked over at the dancers. Legolas had pulled Arwen close and the two danced in what could only be described as a lovers' embrace. Gold and onyx entwined making a breathtaking picture. Then as if he had imagined it, the stunning descendant of Lúthien, twirled around his son and disappeared into the circle of dancers. For a second, he thought his mind had been playing tricks on him, but then his sons' worried blue eyes met his own. Small hand signals warned of danger. It was clear that his son was concerned about his companion. Captain Lesamon responded quickly, refusing to leave his King's side as he relayed the signals to the surrounding guard. Gildor leaned forward in question.

"What has caught your attention?" Gildor asked. Thranduil smiled and waved at his son nonchalantly before responding. He was obviously fighting to keep his demeanor relaxed. He saw Arwen reunite with Legolas, and watched as his son twirled his friend around, deftly keeping Arwen away from the outside of the circle.

"Legolas and Arwen detect danger. My son believes that it is focused on Arwen." The King raised his glass as if in toast. Gildor laughed and clinked his glass with the King.

"There are too many innocent bystanders here." Gildor rose. His smiling face at odds with his soft and serious words. "I will inform Haldir. Can they walk towards the next grove? Perhaps an ambush could be arranged. We might be able to catch the traitors."

"I would not place Celebrian's daughter at risk." Thranduil's eyes flashed. His dear Lillanlai and Celebrian were only the latest precious ellith to be attacked. Back ages ago, his Naneth, sister Aurmîr, and sister-in-law had only survived an attack due to Galadriel's skill with makeshift swords. His hand clenched at the memory and he could not stifle the tension that radiated from him.

"Please forgive me for angering you Aran." Gildor rose and bowed. The warning was clear and Thranduil cleared the air by laughing lightly.

"The disagreement is partially my fault. We should speak no more over it." Thranduil signaled his guards, who were dispersed unobtrusively around the meadow. Gildor meandered towards the Galadhrim, careful to stop and greet people along the way. If the Lady Arwen and Prince Legolas perceived a threat, Lord Celeborn would want to know. He turned back to the dancers. There were many hundreds of elves, nay likely over a thousand enjoying the evening. They were easy targets if the threat was from a small subversive group. Maiar and Men were easily spotted, but none of the other kindreds were here at the evening dance. Nay, this threat must be from elves. He shuddered slightly remembering descriptions of kinslaying and word of the attack carried out on the lemba-making Yavannildi. The memory made his blood boil. The enemies in that case were Elves, tortured and reprogrammed by Morgoth into weapons of evil. But Morgoth was no more and his Lieutenant Sauron had been banished. Surely, the Nazgul did not have the same power to turn elves into their weapons? Or did they?

"Greetings Gildor." Celeborn poured him a glass of wine and motioned for him to join them at the table.

"Good evening Celeborn and Galadriel." He nodded and smiled at them.

"_What news of our enemies?" _Galadriel's voice spoke in his mind.

"_They focus on the Lady Arwen and Prince Legolas." _He thought in his mind and saw Celeborn raise his glass in direction of his Marchwarden. Was this a coincidence or had the Lady both understood him and already spoken to her husband? He did not have to wait long until her voice settled again in his mind.

"_Guide me to the memories." _


	15. Chapter 15 Confrontation

Legolas watched the ellith dance from the edge of the circle. Thranduil noted the tension in his stance, which could be interpreted as an impatient suitor, but was in reality the stance of a worried friend. It would be all too easy to aim an arrow at the dancing elleth from the trees nearby. He prayed that the Lothlórien guard were as efficient as his own. The Maidens in front of him danced oblivious to the danger. Their entwined hands were alternatively raised and lowered as they leapt in a circular counter clockwise direction to the syncopated beat of the ancient Lithir. The swish of their skirts were metaphors for a rushing river while the seductive twists of their bodices would normally mesmerize any ellon in the vicinity but for the menace of this night. Arwen had definitely inherited her dark beauty from her ancestor Lúthien, a wondrous elf maiden that Thranduil had see only once in his life, when he was but a very young elfling visiting the Royal Halls of Doriath with his Adar. In appearance, the star maiden had an ethereal quality about her. Perhaps it is the strange melding of bloodlines and dark color from her father tempered by the light of Finwe's Granddaughter. What ever it was, it marked Arwen and made her easily recognizable from a distance. It was as if Legolas heard his thoughts, for the Prince nearly pulled Arwen into his arms, the moment the Lithir dance ended.

The wind blew, suddenly agitated, sweeping unattended cups and empty plates from the tables. Elves rushed to gather up the used items and put them in large bins for washing later. Thranduil eyed his Captain warily.

"Sire does the wind whisper secrets?" Lesamon had been astounded when his King had received prior warning of their attack from the wind.

"Not directly." Thranduil sipped his wine and tried to keep an outwardly calm demeanor. He looked towards the circle of dancers as much as he dared, covertly watching the pair. One of the Greenwood guard relayed their plans to Legolas. He wondered how much of the plan Legolas could apprise Arwen of. The maiden from Imladris would be unfamiliar with Greenwood's codes and his son would not risk speaking them aloud. Thranduil sighed heavily. His Captain smiled in return and raised his voice.

"Perhaps it is time for me to retire. I will need to organize our warriors for our return home." Lesamon rose and bowed to his King. Thranduil spoke the traditional words of dismissal and watched the Captain of his guard seemingly walk away from the festivities. In reality, his Captain was coordinating the ambush with the March warden of Lothlórien. All Thranduil could do now was wait. Something he had never enjoyed. Mere minutes seemed like hours as Gildor crossed back over to him and bowed.

"Aran Thranduil it is my pleasure to invite you to join the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien and I for a small reception in the library." Thranduil held back a smile at the ruse as he gratefully accepted. The wind curled about him as he rose, as if it did not wish him to leave.

"Will Lord Elrond join us?" Thranduil wondered about how closely the Lord was connected with this wind, given the wondrous secret he was now privy to.

"I believe he has retired for the evening." Gildor paused and then gestured towards the left. "This way King Thranduil." Two Greenwood guards followed them as they made their way away from the festivities.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Your family has cared for many and set up an unsurpassed haven at Imladris. We are all happy to take care of our Lord. He is well loved." Glorfindel could easily counter Elrohir's worry about the long recovery that was ahead for Elrond. It would be a number of months before he would regain his full health. However, it was more difficult to dispel his own apprehension that grew as the wind had picked up outside the flet and fiercely rattled the windows.

"Arwen!" Elrond mumbled in his sleep. Glorfindel sat down on the bed and gently stroked the furled brow.

"Perhaps it is the draught." Elrohir mused. "Once he settles into a deep sleep, he should be more calm." At that moment the windows burst open and the wind gusted into the room. Glorfindel hissed as he felt a low burning sensation as the wind whipped around them. Elrond moaned quietly, his breath now coming in gasps.

"Shut the window!" Glorfindel ordered as he strengthened his grip on Elrond and moved to lie down on the bed next to him as if he could physically protect him from the wind's grasp. Elrohir faltered as he frantically considered whether he should shut the window or try to protect his Adar. A blue light glinted angrily from Elrond's hand, it's wearer too incapacitated by the medicinal draught to give the wind its answer. Glorfindel's own golden light shown brightly as he held Elrond protectively, but Elrohir could see pain on the Seneschal's normally controlled features. He rushed towards the windows, trying to push them shut against the wind.

Glorfindel was focusing solely on his friend. He grasped the connection between their spirits with his whole consciousness, determined not to let the Peredhel slip from him. _The world shifted and when he opened his eyes, it was not the inside of the flet that met them, but the dusk sky, lit softly by starlight. He and Elrond seemed to hover in the air as thousands of voices cried as one around them. _

"_Come back to us." They urged in unison, although their sheer numbers made the words echo strangely. "You belong with us." _

"_Greetings __noble spirits of the wind and air."_ _Elrond's voice was clear and strong. "What brings you here?" _

"_Your loved ones are in danger. Help, help them. Fly as part of us." The wind chanted. Bright blue light flashed around them. The burning sensation radiated from where his hand joined Elrond's and he knew instinctively, this was part of the price of __Celebrimbor's_ _harnessing of the power of the air into this magical talisman. _

"_What have you seen?" Elrond's voice gave no indication of his discomfort nor any hint of whether he would join the wind or not._

"_Do not go. Please stay with us." Glorfindel thought, although the words seemingly were only in his own mind. He held close to Elrond as images of the circle of dancers flashed around them. The wind sensed some evil focused on the Prince and Arwen. He could see a pensive Thranduil talking with Gildor. Then there were figures cloaked in darkness with ominous auras observing the dancers. Gildor appeared again speaking with the Lady and her Silver Lord. Galadriel looked up suddenly. Her sparkling azure eyes belied a mind deciphering a riddle, when suddenly it seemed to Glorfindel that she could see him. _

"_We will deal with the situation." She seemed to say to both him and Gildor. The Prince and Arwen were walking away from the dancers, following a path to a less populated glade. The tension rose steadily. Glorfindel could feel wavering consciousness of one nearly lost to a medicated sleep. Could Elrond control the wind in this state? They hovered long moments in darkness. He could hear the screeches and tones but could no longer understand them. _

"_I thank you for the news, great spirits of the wind." Elrond's voice was quiet, like a last echo of a song. Glorfindel could not make out the final verse. _

Crash! The windows rattled loudly as Elrohir slammed the final one shut and ran back towards the bed.

"Glorfindel!" The Golden Warrior was pale and blinked dazedly at him as lights of blue and gold faded away. Elrohir placed his hands on both sides of Glorfindel's head and called again. "Glorfindel!"

"Elrohir?" Glorfindel returned weakly. He still clutched Elrond's hand tightly.

"Glorfindel! What just happened? Tell me everything." Elrohir's urgent voice held the qualities of Turgon, of Earendil, and of Elrond. Glorfindel registered it only as a voice to be obeyed. Words spilled out uncharacteristically as he tried to voice what he had experienced. Only when the Golden Warrior fell silent, did Elrohir thrust a glass into his hand.

"A restorative." Elrohir motioned for Glorfindel to drink. The Seneschal of Imladris sipped slowly at the brew as the world around him settled back to normal. He had regained control of himself when a knock disturbed them. Elrohir rose from his task of checking his Adar and went to answer the door.

"Forgive the disturbance. My Lord Celeborn bade me to check if all was well?" The Galadhrim bowed slightly.

"Yes, we are well." Elrohir paused then voiced his worry. "Is my sister safe?"

"She is still at the celebration, but dark forces are moving. We have taken the liberty of posting Imladris guard at your Talan, for our forces are called to protect the Prince of Greenwood and your Sister. Your brother is with Lord Celeborn."

"Who now stands guard here?"

"Durgin, Bronwë, and Areder keep watch outside. I must return to my post." The messenger bowed slightly and exited.

"Do you want to go join them?"

"I think it would raise too much suspicion if I left here." Elrohir said as he moved to the chest that held their weapons. "My place is here, keeping watch, while you both rest. Thank you for keeping Adar safe."

"I do not know if I accomplished anything." Glorfindel yawned, thoroughly exhausted from the strange experience.

"All I felt was panic when I saw the blue aura mesh with the wind. I think your presence alone was helpful for Adar. Rest Glorfindel, it is my turn to repay you by keeping watch."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

They waited in the dark. The Mallorns kept their songs low and light. No idle gossip or speculation left their minds, so as not to divulge any information to those who threatened the beloved family of their Lord and Lady. Celeborn and Haldir were tense beside Thranduil as they tried to gather information about the numbers of their foes. Surely, not more than a handful of elves could be part of this conspiracy!

Legolas and Arwen meandered towards their destination. From time to time Legolas would pull Arwen towards him as they stepped behind a particularly wide Mallorn trunk. From afar, it was designed to give the impression of two lovers wandering aimlessly; however, Thranduil hoped that his son was taking those stolen moments to apprise Arwen of the situation and hopefully slip her a small weapon as a last line of defense.

He could hear soft murmurs of the wind, seemingly agitated by the situation, but it was not the direct whispers that had been guided by Elrond on that fateful day weeks ago. The pair was getting closer. Hopefully, they would draw their enemies into the meadow, where guards were well positioned to protect the precious young elves. Thranduil reacted when the wind suddenly sweep up the silk curtain of Arwen's hair. The Lady trembled as she seemingly pulled Legolas to her for a sweet kiss. Thranduil instinctively knew her shiver was due to fear and not from a lover's anticipation. He gave a series of signals to his warriors. Those from the Golden Woods responded a second or two later, but Thranduil was already rushing forward. Legolas pushed Arwen hard and she stumbled behind the next Mallorn trunk. In the same motion he turned and threw one of his pair of knives at something beyond Thranduil's line of sight. The King had his own sword drawn but was shocked to see Legolas wielding one. The sword was not his best weapon.

"_He must have given Arwen his second knife." _Thranduil registered as he surged forward. His son stepped to the left out of view. The clash of swords was audible.

Yet another accomplice in the tree with his bow aimed at Legolas. Unbeknownst to all, a Galadhrim warrior was creeping up behind him. Nearly simultaneously, a lithe figure stepped from behind the Mallorn and threw a knife.

"Legolas!" The dark haired beauty's scream would surely draw other's attention.

"_Arwen!" _Thranduil's mind supplied at the maiden's shrill cry of warning. The weapon's speed and force was surprising, given that the one who threw it was no warrior. Thranduil felt other eyes drawn to the elf maiden, who stood motionless in shock. He darted towards her as he heard the scrape of arrows being drawn from their quivers. A gasp of pain and the rustle of leaves precluded the fall of one of the would be assassins from the Mallorn's branches. Thranduil scooped Arwen up and pressed her close to the Mallorn's thick trunk. The twang of arrows mixed with Arwen's gasp of surprise. The Warrior King had saved her from being impaled with arrows, which were now caught in the grass and bark where they had stood mere moments before. Thranduil squeezed her tightly to catch her full attention.

"Quiet Child." Thranduil pushed her to the ground, keeping her back against the smooth trunk. "Stay low and out of sight, we are surrounded by warriors. All will soon be well." At that moment, Celeborn and Rúmil join them. Celeborn ran his finger's soothingly through his granddaughter's hair, while Rúmil took Thranduil's place in shielding Arwen. Seconds later the two eminent elf Lords leapt forward, this time with ample warriors.

Two attackers converged on Legolas, who was pitched in a fierce sword battle with a third. He spun to maneuver his foes on one side of him. The wind screeched in anger at the inequity. A familiar warrior's call announced the presence of his Adar and Celeborn. The ancient warriors were fearful in their wrath as they joined the fray. Arrows reined down, falling at random and strangely off target. The odd sight was soon explained by the emergence of allies from the trees. Those that threatened Arwen and Legolas had been subdued.

"Are you hurt?" Even in the darkness, Thranduil could see the wet spots on his son's tunic.

"I am fine Adar." Legolas turned. "Who do I have to thank for taking care of the archer?"

"Both Arwen and one of the Galadhrim, I believe." Thranduil grasped his son's arm in a warrior's greeting then pulled him into a brief embrace.

"Arwen?" They both startled at Celeborn's surprised voice. The Lord of Lothlorien turned back to survey the seen. His warriors were now evaluating the fallen. Some bent over to judge the severity of the wounded.

Xxxxxxxx

"Elladan!" Something was not right. She saw her brother kneeling by one of the fallen attackers. In her heart, it was hard to label elves as enemies. The events of the kinslaying were in history books from her Grandmother's time. They were unreal events that took place when her Adar was but a boy. She saw the wounded foe reach for her brother's throat as he knelt seemingly transfixed. Horror filled her as she watched hands wrap around his unprotected neck. "Elladan!" She screamed and bolted towards them. Celeborn reacted instantly, dispatching the foe whose hands were still clutching his grandson's neck.

"What magic is this?" Celeborn cursed out loud as Arwen frantically worked the fingers free from Elladan's neck. Celeborn turned and his booming voice rang out. "The enemy is still dangerous. Do not approach them." Thranduil reacted instantly to pull Legolas up from where he had bent near one of the other wounded.

"He's not breathing!" Arwen yelled as Celeborn laid Elladan down. Arwen slid her hands under his neck. The tilting of his head caused his mouth to open. She did not think twice before pinching his nose shut and sealing her lips over his. She blew breath out into him. Then turned her head to breath in for herself. Her sensitive ears did not detect Elladan's breath. Two, three, four, five times she breathed into him before she felt his own breath stirring.

"Elladan," she whispered as she placed one hand tentatively on his head and the other to cover his heart. The beat was irregular. She bent her powers of thought to his as she recalled what she had learned about the black breath in her classes. She called to her brother mind to mind. She could perceive whispers that spoke of hopelessness. They pinned evil deeds on his lack of skill as a warrior and preyed on his own guilt and insecurities. She recognized these as tricks of the enemy and focused her love and hope towards him. "Elladan! Come back to the light! Leave these evil dreams behind."

"Arwen?" He sputtered, only now marking the soreness of his throat. She had never been so relieved to see his silver eyes.

"Elladan!" She embraced him.

"We should move away from here." Celeborn lifted his grandson to his feet and they hurried him away from the fallen enemies. Arwen marked the despair in her brother's eyes.

"Those dark murmurs hold no truth." She pulled him to her. That he laid his head on her shoulder spoke of his great turmoil. "Those were but weapons of the enemy. Remember what Erestor and Glorfindel taught us about the black breath."


	16. Chapter 16 Temptation

Elladan shivered involuntarily. The horror of dark dreams hovered too near in his mind. He tried to focus on what his sister was saying but it was as if she were speaking a foreign language. The squeak of the door caught his attention and he turned now mesmerized by the golden light that surrounded his Daernaneth. Galadriel glided into the Talan. Her light drew his complete attention. Her powerful aura instilled confidence, strength, and peace. She bent near him and stroked his cheek. He covered her hand with his own.

"Peace Penneth." Her smile settled in his heart even as her eyes seemed to pierce through the fog that surrounded him. "I have some salve for your throat. May I treat your injury?" He nodded slightly, mesmerized by her azure eyes.

"It is a trick of the enemy. Focus your thoughts on your loved ones. Feel your spirit's strong connection to your family." Galadriel's tone was to be obeyed. Elladan heard the unspoken voice of experience.

"You have experienced it before?" His voice was stronger now, as he followed her advice. Her long deceivingly delicate fingers traced his brow as her power warmed him.

"Long ago," she admitted. "It was just after the War of Wrath. Your Adar and Daeradar have dealt with it much more recently. Release those feelings of shame and inadequacy. You are strong and can break free of the enemies devices." She could feel the lingering darkness within him. Somehow, she doubted that one of Sauron's lesser minions could be capable of turning so many elves into their servants and endowing them with darkness strong enough to affect others. She held back a shiver at sudden feelings of foreboding. Perhaps this was a sign that the darkness in Dol Goldur was due to something much worse. She shook those worries away as she focused on this beloved child.

"The bruises will darken by tomorrow. It will be several days before they fade." Her fingers gently swirled the salve around Elladan's neck.

"You should cover them when you see Adar." Arwen spoke up as she draped a warmer cloak around her brother's shoulders.

"An excellent suggestion. Your Adar needs time to heal and recover. We will wait to inform him of this occurrence."

"He will detect our omission. I can not successfully lie to Adar." Elladan grinned openly at some youthful indiscretions.

"I did not say lie." Galadriel's smile filled the room with light. "Greet him in the morning when he wakes and tend to his injury. His senses will be muddled and muted from sleep. He would never invade your privacy. If he does not see your bruises he will not sense anything."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Enter," Elrohir responded to the low knock on the Talan door. He rose from where he sat watching over his Adar and Glorfindel. Dawn was just blossoming in the sky. He was surprised to see his Daernaneth enter carrying a tray filled with breakfast breads, fruit, and a steaming cup of what could only be a healing draught.

"Are Elladan and Arwen well?" Elrohir's own heart had been plagued all night with worry for his family. Galadriel placed the tray on the side table.

"They wait for you in my Talan with your Daeradar. Go to them. I will remain here until you return." She kissed his forehead and sent him on his way. Then she turned to assess the two sleeping figures on the bed. Glorfindel stirred at her presence but Elrond was deeply asleep. Galadriel was surprised when the golden warrior finally open his eyes, for they spoke of a great weariness. Blood shot eyes scanned the room with trepidation before establishing that they were indeed alone. She smiled reassuringly and grasped his hand in comfort.

"It is an unnatural power that Celebrimbor tied to the three." His voice was hoarse and she helped him sit up and handed him a glass of water. "The risk in using them is yet greater than was anticipated."

"Tell me what happened."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

"The lone survivor may hold the answer as to who programmed these elves to do such evil deeds." Arathorn suggested.

"It is unlikely that an enemy could be strong enough to over take the will of a grown elf." Saruman was amazed.

"It happened in the first age." Celeborn reported grimly.

"Is it recorded in history books?" Mithrandir had pored through many of the volumes at Imladris and some even in the libraries of Minas Tirith.

"No, it was not recorded. Paper and scrolls were a rarity at the end of the War of Wrath. But many still live who could attest to this fact." Galadriel was unwilling to divulge their names.

"Was Sauron capable of such deeds?"

"We found no proof that Morgoth's lieutenant was able to control elves. At that time, some of those that were attacked by the traitors attested to the controlling voice of the dark Vala Morgoth." Thranduil supplied. He was well aware of the incident. He did not know why Galadriel was not more forthcoming about her own role that day, but he did not want to cause the Lady the pain of recalling it before the council.

"Surely, if either this traitor or the palantir hold the key to who or what is behind these acts, then these are avenues we should pursuit." Saruman soundly reasoned.

"And if one of these should lead to Sauron? Then the mind of the one brave enough to investigate would be stripped naked in front of the dark Lord." Galadriel warned.

"He is either dead or greatly incapacitated." Saruman opined.

"It has appeared so for over two thousand years, and yet the chance remains." Galadriel's voice shimmered oddly as if she was relaying things that no one else could see.

"Lord Elrond would be able to discern if this darkness was connected to the Nazgul that sought to subdue him. He may be able to sense its presence without probing the traitor's mind." Gildor suggested.

"As might I." Thranduil agreed then paused before voicing his opinion. "But the risk of our own exposure is too great. Our responsibilities to my people require us acting with care. Lord Elrond has suffered greatly at the hands of our enemies and is not at full health or strength. Even if he were, I believe his council would err on the side of caution. Were one of our minds bared before this servant of evil our defenses would be exposed."

"Why do we not ask the venerable half-elf for his opinion." Saruman suggested graciously.

"Yesterday he endured a full day of council and then the reception. He was greatly weary when I saw him this morning. I decided it was best to withhold from him what had occurred."

"You decided for the council?" Saruman returned.

"Yes, in this case I do. The healers judged that Lord Elrond should take things slowly and heed his body's need for rest. Yesterday's council session was long and strenuous. I see no reason to expose him to yet more of the enemy's machinations."

"Perhaps one of the Istari could assess the traitor without delving too deeply. Certainly, they could guard their thoughts well enough. If there was any sign that a greater power was at play, they could stop their interrogation at once." Lord Angon suggested. The Seneschal studied the three Istari closely as if their eagerness in such an endeavor might divulge information about their trustworthiness. These strange creatures, whose forms clearly belonged to the Edain but whose longevity signaled otherwise, were somewhat of a mystery. The Lady Galadriel had her own ideas of their origins, having met one of them in their true form back in Aman; however, their power was not that of the Maiar now nor was their wisdom.

"Yet at least one Istar turned to darkness or was coaxed into the enemies fold." Celeborn reminded them.

"I would stick to the birds of the air and creatures of the forest for my information." Radagast projected. "They are trustworthy friends whereas this traitor is anything but."

"Birds can not tell us who is behind this." Saruman mocked.

"Ah, they tell a great deal. They say a dark power is moving in Dol Goldur, one that controls their lesser brethren the crows. This suggests to me that it is Sauron the deceiver who is in control."

"Could not one of the Nazgul control the birds of the air as well?" Thranduil inquired seriously.

"I think not." Radagast began but was interrupted by the ranking member of the Istari.

"I believe that they could. Surely, to influence the thoughts of birds would not require a Maia." Saruman stated flatly. Mithrandir added nothing but rubbed his hand on his beard nonchalantly. "The evidence points to a Nazgul's influence."

"Yet an Istar attacked Lord Elrond. Was he turned towards such an evil of his own free will or influenced by some greater power? Such a power would put elves, men, or Istari who come in contact with it at risk." Celeborn mused.

"Several of the traitorous elves were upstanding and respected members of Lothlórien. I would hazard to guess that torture and mind control turned them into puppets for the enemy." Indeed, Lord Angon was still in shock that one of his close friends was among the dead traitors. "It behooves us to delve into the matter further for our own security."

"Could the prisoner be interrogated without risk?"

"That is the question."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"They have decided to interrogate the prisoner?"

"Probe his mind. I believe those were the terms." Celeborn mused as he finished his assessment of his grandson. Some shadows still clouded the warrior's fëa, but these appeared to be fading. The effects of the black breath were not to be trifled with.

"Legolas was going to accompany us to the swimming hole." Arwen sensed her Daeradar's worry. "We intend to spent the day soaking in the sun."

"An excellent choice." Celeborn smiled. "Would that I could accompany you."

"You will not be part of this interrogation?"

"I will monitor the procedure. We can not afford to lose the leader of the council to this darkness." Celeborn changed topics, closing this line of discussion. "Did you visit with your Adar this morning?"

"Adar was not fully awake but seemed calmed by our presence."

"He was worried about you both, as was I."

"There is nothing more to be concerned about." Arwen smiled and it seemed like sunshine. She handed her brother a pile of towels and bent to lift a small duffle bag. Celeborn pulled her into his arms and kissed her forehead.

"Enjoy the day." He smiled as the left to meet Legolas.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

_Saruman bent to examine the bleak earth beneath his feet. The parched earth was devoid of life and flowed strangely through his fingers. The prisoner's mindscape was a dark empty place, devoid of hope. Saruman could hear the controlling undercurrent and murmurs of pain. There was little doubt that this pitiful elf before him had suffered greatly before losing control of his own thoughts and actions. This was a puppet. Of that there was little doubt. But who controlled its strings? The wizard wondered as he rose again and surveyed the scene before him. Jagged rocks jutted out before a path that climbed impossibly upward in the orange and brown cliffside. He focused outwards trying to discern a presence. A voice hovered in the distance._

"_Saruman." It echoed off the cliff walls. Whoever was behind this attack at least was aware of him. He started upwards, smiling at the unreality of leaving no footprints in the soft earth. Voices were lifted in argument. He followed the sound to the opening of a cave. Through the foggy light he could see tables arranged in a square. Elves, Sindar he guessed, vociferously argued in ancient accented Sindarin. They interrupted each other. Their expressions varied between frustration and anger to fear. He caught only about one in ten words. He did not recognize most of those gathered. Their ancient eyes marked them as having awakened __at __Cuiviénen_.

"_Jewel!" A dark haired elf dressed in robes of a noble yelled as his hands waved animatedly. Saruman realized that their King must have departed for them to speak so loudly and freely. _

"… _imbued with evil." The silver haired elleth's face was fearful. _

"_Will not let it destroy us!" Shouted another. Saruman jumped when he felt a touch on his shoulder. He stumbled as he recognized Taurangol, the traitor. _

"_Lord Celeborn watches us closely. I have no chance to harm you." The tall blond elf was uninjured here in this dream haven, though in reality he had suffered grave wounds that would soon be mortal. _

"_That remains to be seen ancient one." Saruman raised his brow in disbelief. "You have already proven yourself capable of kinslaying. What is a wizard to you?" _

"_The Lord of Isengard is intelligent." He shrugged and gestured to where the heated argument continued uninterrupted. "Not like these simpletons. You can lead a horse to water but you cannot make him drink. Do you know who these elves are?"_

"_You hail from Doriath. I suppose they are either the remainder of Elu Thingol's council, who warned him to be wary of the dwarves, or alternatively Dior's people adamantly opposing the keeping of the Silmaril." _

"_Ah, you are an intelligent one." A nasty smile greeted him. _

"_So, I pass your test?" Saruman returned patiently. "Who controls you and incited your actions against your own people?" The traitor merely shrugged. _

"_It is Dior's council. These good but stupid elves have only hours to live."_

"_You departed Doriath before the Feanorians descended."_

"_Many of us did."_

"_It is not recorded thusly."_

"_The royals were much too busy to notice. What is twenty percent more or less among the dead?" _

"_Your point is?" Saruman's patience grew thin. _

"_That would be telling." Taurangol smirked. _

"_We know you were tortured. The signs are still there. Who is your master?" _

"_I am as I have always been." Cold eyes returned his stare. "I knew best what needed to be done. My decisions would have saved many. My decisions could still have saved many."_

"_Given hindsight, all decisions are easier." _

"_You know better too. I think you also know what it is like to deal with those less intelligent, less able, less worthy." Taurangol's eyes seemed to delve into the wizard's sole. _

"_Are we not all blessed from Eru Ilúvatar with the gift of free will?" The wizard fell back on old arguments that he replayed often, for the people of Rohan were maddening at times._

"_You would be the better ruler. You would keep the nascent settlers of Rohan safe."_

"_And what would my punishment be, if I were to take away the free will of thousands?"_

"_Why should the Wise Wizard Saruman suffer indignities at their hands? Why should some offspring of a half-elf be welcomed into their villages and cities with honor when you are turned away? Your wisdom is paramount." Saruman laughed at this and the spell fell away. _

"_Is this the best that you and your master can do? Is this how you seek to ensnarl the mind and will of an Istar? Did my brother __Alatar_ _fall for such folly? We were not sent to rule." _

"_What were you sent to do, if not to rule? You need not take away their free will. You need only protect them and nurture their growth. Maybe your orders were not clear. Maybe it is in ruling that you can fulfill your appointed tasks." _

"_Who is your master?" Saruman focused all his power on the traitor. The elf seemed to waiver slightly and the scene brightened. They stood on the top of the cliff. Out in the distance, the towers of an exquisite city glistened. _

"_Your destiny is to rule. It is your right." _

"_It is not your place to tell me what I should do." Saruman laughed. "Who is your master?"_

"_You will seek him yourself. You will become his servant." The blond's wry grin incited anger in the Istar. _

"_I will be no one's servant." Saruman roared as he struck out at the too smug elf. Fog rolled in around them. _

"_Power can be yours. You can wield it for the betterment of all." The lilting voice predicted._

"_Power is all corrupting." Saruman yelled. _

"_Is that what you truly believe?" The voice echoed as the landscape faded to thick gray clouds. _

"Saruman!" Strong hands – real hands clutched his shoulder. "Saruman come back to us." It was Celeborn. The silver Lord towered over the seated wizard. Saruman returned the gaze steadily.

"A cordial." Mithrandir held a glass out to him. He drank of the potent liquid, returning to his senses. The elf whose mind he had just probed was lying on the cot in front of him unconscious; however, the conversation echoed in both his mind and in the fertile soil of his proud heart.


	17. Chapter 17 Knowledge versus wisdom

"How dare they order! The audacity of elves!" Saruman felt righteously angered at the heavy handed treatment. "They would not even let me get my hat!"

"Elves have much experience dealing with the black breath." Mithrandir stated amiably, although he was obviously amused by his comrade's ire. "The sun is supposed to drive away the darkness. No chapeau required. Nay, it would be deemed a hindrance to your recovery."

"For the fiftieth time, I am fine. The traitor did not seek to harm me."

"What did he seek?" Mithrandir pulled out his pipe and a small pouch of his precious Pipe-weed. A small smile nearly lit his face at the thought of the cheerful hobbit who had sold him the bag, but he kept his mien careful blank so as not to further incite his friend. "You spent a long while communing with him."

"I have read little about Annatar's first appearances in Eregion." Saruman mulled over from his encounter with the traitor. "The only accounts are from Gil-Galad's court about how they turned him away from Lindon."

"That is perhaps due to the fact that most accounts were destroyed in flames when Sauron's forces overran the city." The Istari were startled by the approach of several elves.

"Celeborn the Wise, are you here with further orders?" Saruman managed to keep his temper in check.

"Touché'," Celeborn moved his hand over his heart in a sign of peace and respect. Then he motioned to his guard who handed him a basket. "I thought we might speak together while enjoying some refreshment. It was never our intent to slight you, only to keep you safe."

"And you deem yourself more knowledgeable?" Saruman accused evenly.

"More knowledgeable?" Celeborn gave a self-effacing laugh. "Nay, we are just speaking from personal experience. I have no way of knowing if your experience was similar to ours."

"You may join us, that is if Mithrandir approves." Saruman relented.

"By all means." Mithrandir motioned amiably.

"I trust you will indulge your pipe at some other time. Preferably far away from our beloved trees." Celeborn sat down, opened the basket, and removed three glasses and a cordial.

"As you wish." Mithrandir put away his pouch but not his pipe.

"Are you here to ply us with drink and pump us for information?" Saruman sneered. Celeborn ignored the comment and poured out three glasses of the ruby liquor.

"Nay, nothing so underhanded." The silver Lord passed him a glass and raised his own in a toast. "I merely will answer your earlier question as to how Annatar arrived in Eregion. At the time, messengers from Lindon took several weeks to traverse the distance. So it was that the Maiar arrived a week before Gil-Galad's warnings. Yet, I truly do not know if it would have made a difference. Like you, the council of Eregion bristled at any perceived interference in its own authority. Such a warning was taken as a personal affront. It was an order from the High King, however politely worded, to turn away this traveler. The Smiths of Eregion had already interviewed and made their own decision to allow Annatar into their circle. The full explanation was only included in a message to Galadriel and myself."

"You met him at the gate?" Mithrandir presumed.

"No, he used a far different tactic than in Lindon. Perhaps his cold welcome at the gates of Mithlond forced him to change his tactic. Who is to say? But his first interactions were with the smiths and craftspeople of Eregion."

"Was Celebrimbor like his illustrious ancestors?"

"He was amiable enough, although he had an unfortunate panache for voicing awkward statements in mixed company, a tendency to which he was oblivious. He was not the most socially apt of ellon but was genuinely interested in advancing knowledge and craft for the betterment of all. He surrounded himself with like-minded people of elves, men, and even dwarves." Celeborn paused to sip his cordial and suppressed a shudder.

"Surely, you do not think all dwarves are your enemies?" Mithrandir correctly read Celeborn's disquiet.

"After the untimely death of my King at the hands of dwarves, I was uncomfortable visiting Celebrimbor's workshop for his dwarven apprentices had earned his unconditional trust. Intellectuals found welcome there regardless of their culture of origin."

"The pursuit of knowledge is a noble calling." Saruman swirled the ruby liquid watching it diffract the afternoon sun.

"Perhaps not all knowledge is meant for us."

"Knowledge is the foundation of wisdom." Saruman disagreed.

"Nay knowledge can not be equated with wisdom. One can know much but not be counted among the wise." Celeborn disagreed. "Our ethics and morals are required to discern what knowledge can contribute to our lives for the better."

"I think the two go hand in hand." Saruman countered.

"Elrond is a healer, whose interest in medicinal plants lead him to separate and purify the things – the components that are part of the plant's solid form." Celeborn paused as he sought the term his son-in-law applied to this. "Molecules are smallest components that make up their form. He has isolated both ones that help heal and ones that are deadly toxins. In his wisdom, he has put this knowledge to use in healing others. Yet there are those who might seek to use this knowledge for evil. With Elrond's notes, one might make more potent and deadlier poisons."

"But with a pure form of the poison, one might research and develop better antidotes, which one could not do with the crude mixtures."

"When do the benefits out way the risks? Who among us makes those decisions? Or do we leave the decision in the hands of each individual?" Celeborn returned.

"In the case of healers research, I believe the answer is clear cut." Mithrandir interjected. "But you refer to the much more sinister occurrence of Sauron forging the One ring to rule over others."

"If he had all the knowledge to do that on his own, why would he have sought out Celebrimbor? Is it then that Celebrimbor's research and craft led to the blossoming of this evil?"

"Knowledge can be put to good or evil. But far worse would it be for us to not pursue new ideas and remain ignorant." Saruman lifted his glass. "I would have liked to meet this Grandson of Fëanor."

"I believe you would have found a kindred academic, I think had Elrond Peredhel chosen to follow us to Eregion, he would have found ready acceptance among Celebrimbor's following. In retrospect, it was cunning of Sauron to change his tactic. Had he appeared at the city gates demanding to see the council leaders, we might have perceived his duplicity and turned him away. But he found welcome among craftsman journeying to Celebrimbor's workshop and presented himself as a fellow academic and artisan. By the time he came before the council, he had garnered significant support."

"Surely your opinion could have swayed the others?"

"We noted dangerous signs, but he had secured the good will of the majority through little works. Those who supported him in small deeds found it more and more difficult to stand against him in larger endeavors. Only slowly and insidiously did he reveal his true nature. I wonder how he managed to turn himself from a prisoner on Númenor to a top councilor of King Ar-Pharazôn? What honeyed words did he whisper in the King's ear to be released from his bonds and named Tar-Mairon? Did the greedy Man, who unlawfully ascended the throne, present an easy prey for Melkor's captain?"

"I have not read accounts of Sauron's ascent to power in Númenor." Gandalf murmured.

"Most of the texts were likely destroyed. I do not think even Elendil was witness to it. More likely it was his father Amadil, who may have penned an account. If there is any manuscript left, it would be found in the libraries of Minas Tirith, for the great library of Annúminas was destroyed."

"Did you not detect what Annatar was?" Mithrandir absently fingered his pipe. .

"Annatar had this other world quality to him. His light was distinct from that of elves but his visage more than elven fair. Those of us who knew Melian well, felt some familiarity with the light he possessed. Few remained who had interacted with or even seen a Maia incarnate. There were clues. But it was not guessed that this was Morgoth's chief lieutenant, Gorthaur the Cruel."

"You could not discern his true nature?" Saruman was intrigued.

"That is a surprising question coming from one who sought unsuccessfully to read my Granddaughter's mind." Celeborn and Saruman exchanged a long glance, which was finally broken by the Silver Lord's tired sigh. "Galadriel and I detected dubious undercurrents. Elrond and Gil-Galad did as well as they denied him entry to Mithlond. We immediately advised the council to proceed with caution, but he had already spent a week inspiring awe among the smiths. As far as reading him directly, I cannot look into either of your hearts and know if you are truly my ally any more than you can probe mine. It is our interactions that inspire and build our confidence in each other. A few days later we received Gil-Galad's warning. A council was again summoned but we could not garner enough support to evict him or bar him from the smiths. You know the outcome. Suffice to say, at first this evil presented itself in the visage of advancing knowledge, an admirable and reasonable goal. Only slowly did it reveal its true nature. From what you have told us of your encounter with Taurangol, this is the tactic it that was used on you." Celeborn sipped again at the cordial and paused to top off Saruman's glass.

Xxxxxxxxx _Council of the Golden Woods xxxxxxxxX_

"It is the only way to prevent the enemy from gaining a foothold in Lothlórien!"

"We need to protect our people." Lord Angon had been a close friend with Taurangol. He berated himself for not noticing the change after Taurangol's last trip from Lothlórien. The traitor that now lay dying bore little resemblance to his friend of Millennia.

"I know we have barred dwarves from entering the woods for the last age. But to isolate our woods! Is it even achievable?" Lord Thalion directed the last question to the March warden.

"It would be difficult to monitor elves entering the woods; however, we could more closely scrutinize those who come and go with Our Ladies' guidance." Haldir nodded towards Galadriel. Often the Lady of Light would send warning if she sensed intruders in their woods, but what they were proposing was now to inspect even elves who entered the woods to verify that they had not been exposed to darkness. Those that were suspect could be quarantined for a time.

"Aran Thranduil has managed to control entry into the hills of Emyn Duir for the protection of the woodland people."

"They were forced to retreat to the east and the current perimeter was established because they could no longer patrol the old forest road."

"Yet all visitors are screened by the guards and brought before Aran Thranduil. Only after their interview with the King are they allowed to freely traverse Greenwood."

"You propose we do the same thing here?" Celeborn paused. "Perhaps, the council could interview each visitor?"

"I move that Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel be charged with such interviews, much like Aran Thranduil." Lord Thalion rose.

"I second this motion." Lord Angon surveyed the council. There was much discussion before the vote ensued.

_Xxxxxxxxx In a Glade nearby xxxxxxxxX _

"We may be the last of the Dúnedain to enjoy a visit to Lothlórien." Arathorn told his son. "You should commit all this to memory so you can tell you children and grandchildren."

"I can not believe it." Argonui shook his head in disbelief. "Are we not allies?"

"They fear for their people's safety. Perhaps we might choose the same route if we were confronted with such a situation." Arathorn waved over his comrades. Only two additional Dúnedain warriors had accompanied the Chieftain and his son to the golden woods. They were housed in a quiet glade that had several empty Talans. It was clear that the elves of the golden woods were wary of outsiders.

"Have any of our own people been turned by the enemy?" Argonui had been restless since he and his father were asked to remain in the glade. Neither Elladan nor Elrohir had visited them for the last few days. They had only received word of the incident this morning and had immediately inquired about the safety of the Peredhil. Arathorn declared that they would travel with the Rivendell elves on the homeward journey and even suggested that they alter their usual route to seek safe quarters among the Dunedain towns.

"There are some old tales." Bereg offered. "But we have been remiss about recording our history. Sometimes I worry that the only records of the Dúnedain are those kept in Imladris."

"Master Elrond and his councilors have always succored our people." Belchel stretched out under the shade. He was genuinely enjoying his stay in the Golden Woods. It was the first time in his life that he had no responsibilities or work. The daily life of a Dúnedain ranger was very strenuous.

"But why do we not have our own teachers? Why not have our own historians as was the case in the old Kingdoms?" Argonui was ashamed of how his people had lost touch with the old teachings. Indeed, most Dúnedain were now simple farming folk.

"Well, my learned son, perhaps you can inspire others to school their children as you have been schooled. However, it is difficult when children are needed to work in the fields to help their families survive."

"We could institute schooling to correspond to the time of year when the fields are dormant. The school year could be adapted to our way of life."

"I would have liked to teach both my children more when they were younger. But between patrol duties and farming, there was too little time to teach them more than basic reading and writing." Belchel lamented the fact that he and his wife had not prepared their children as well as his own parents had taught him. "If there were teachers who would agree to go to the villages, you might gain the support of the whole community. Then groups of children could be educated together."

"My son," Arathorn laughed. "I think you will make a great chieftain. You care even about the smallest members of our people. Now when are you going to marry and beget some children of your own?"

"Adar!" Argonui protested. He was far too young to marry.

Xxxxxxxxx

Glorfindel and Elrohir set out to meet the rest of the family. It was but a short walk to their favorite spot. Arwen and Elladan were lurking in the pool. Each was trying to catch the other unaware with a well-timed splash. Elrond sat in the sun nearby. It was a mild fall day, but the elder Peredhel shivered. Glorfindel held his breath as he noticed that Elrond seemed to be twirling a ring on his finger.

"Elrond that is not," Glorfindel caught himself before he said anything that might be overheard. "Elrond, may I join you?" Glorfindel sat down slowly.

"Elrohir, your swimming trunks are in the bag." Arwen's call ended in a shriek as Elladan crashed down besides her. The wave he created splashed over her.

It took Glorfindel a moment to realize that Elrond was fingered a ring on his right hand with his injured left hand. Glorfindel swung his cloak over his friend's shoulders.

"This one signified something far deeper and to me more precious."

Elrond turned to look at him. The silver eyes were bright with unshed tears. Glorfindel placed his hands over Elrond's. "She will be well. She will find peace and healing in the west."

"I pray that is the case." Elrond glanced over at his children. The next words were whispered. "I would gladly have traded places or offered my own life in exchange for her health and happiness."

"Then she would have been just as inconsolable."

Gradually, Elrond regained his legendary composure and slowly turned to watch the spectacle before him. It was a very unusual sight of his three grown children played like elflings in the water. Elrohir was closest to him, and he could sense the bright colors of a contented spirit. Arwen, he knew, still struggled with her emerging sensitivity to the Maiar songs. Her spirit's colors were still cloudy and gray, although her smile and laughter were not forced and she seemed to be genuinely enjoying herself. Elladan was farther away. He was always the strong one supporting his siblings. Elrond was surprised to see shadows, like lesions on the normally bright spirit.

"Elladan?" The word slipped out of Elrond's lips as the silver eyes suddenly detected fading lines that marred the pale skin of his son's throat. He could not hide his shock. "Elladan are you well?"

Elladan turned at his Adar's soft question and then gave signal for surrender as he swam across the pool towards where his Father was seated. Arwen and Elrohir exchanged sly grins before simultaneously splashing their brother as he passed between them. Elladan ducked under the surface and swam the rest of the way underwater until he emerged and climbed out of the water. He dried off quickly and wrapped the towel around him. Glorfindel was part way through a very abbreviated version of the events of last week. Elladan noted how pale and unsettled his father appeared and he quickly knelt before him and took his hand. Silver eyes met silver and for a moment, Elladan sensed the underlying strength in the battered and bruised fëa that was his father. His heart swelled with love and pride as he felt the warmth of his father's generous healing spirit. He quickly turned his Adar's hand over to break the connection and smiled soothingly.

"Adar, there is naught to fear. I am well. I had a brush with the black breath but Daeradar was there in seconds. You, on the other hand, need to focus all your energy on your own recovery. I can only thank Elbereth for the hundredth time for giving you the strength to endure your long ordeal with such a foe. Lean on us for a while. Accept our help until you fully recover." Elladan leaned forward and kissed his Adar's brow. His eyes lit with humor as he turned to Glorfindel. "Our illustrious Seneschal expects us to travel home in a few weeks. He has already approved a list of people who you are allowed to ride with."

"Glorfindel," Elrond's exasperated voice made him smile, for it was common knowledge that the Peredhel hated to ride with others. Glorfindel put up his hands and pleaded.

"I will make sure you return safely to Imladris. My heart would not survive a return journey even half as event filled as our sojourn here. "

"And that you remain safe there until you are whole and healthy." Elladan intoned his own prayer to Elbereth. "In fact, Elrohir and I promise to take over much of your duties at home as long as your recuperation lasts."

"We are not leaving Imladris until you are healed." Elrohir stepped up behind his brother.

"Eru help us!" Glorfindel teased. Elrond swatted his hand away.

"I have every confidence in their abilities." His eyes glistened as he looked at his sons. "Thank you. I know how much you dislike those duties."


	18. Chapter 18 Debates continue

"I see the Lady has finally released you from house arrest. Apparently a peredhel heals more slowly than an elf." Saruman smiled wryly as the pair entered the council chamber. Glorfindel stiffened, taking the comment as derogatory. If Elrond took any affront, he gave no sign, and only sank down in relief in the chair next to Saruman. The large circular table was designed to afford the illusion of equality among the council, although Saruman's position as its head was uncontested.

"House arrest?" Elrond laughed. "I do not know who is more cautious Lord Glorfindel or the Lady, as you refer to her. Although truly, I am still recovering." Saruman eyes were piercing and soon focused on Elrond's shoulder and arm.

"May I offer my services?" He turned from his writing and held his hands up in the traditional elven healer's sign, for all healers sought permission from a conscious patient before treating them. Glorfindel's glare would have put off anyone else. But the Istar was not cowed by the reborn elf. "I have some knowledge that might be helpful." Elrond nodded his consent and the Istar rose.

"It was risky of you to probe the traitor's mind." Elrond closed his eyes as the Saruman assessed his injuries. The Istar started by removing the sling to let the injured arm hang free. Though seemingly elderly, the wizard's hands were strong and powerful. The slowly traced upward from Elrond's hand, halting momentarily above the injured sites. Glorfindel stepped closer to watch worriedly. The probe obviously caused his friend some discomfort. The wizard's hands lingered long over the shoulder wound. Elrond stifled a moan. Saruman reached out with his mind to probe not only the wounds but to listen to the fëa of his patient. The steel of the Peredhel's mind prevented him from probing too deeply. But that was to be expected. There was no doubt that this was Gil-Galad's Herald. He focused on the song of the Peredhel's spirit. It was curiously distinct from that of men, Maiar, or elves. Yet it held threads of each, although the actual percentage of Maiar blood was laughably small. Only voices sounds outside the chamber caused Saruman to halt abruptly.

"Much less risky apparently, than getting caught by orcs like you." Saruman drew back. He considered his own experiments with metal smelting. Alloys of mixed metals had distinct properties from the parent metals. Sometimes, they were even stronger than any of their components. "Judging by the extent of the damage and the healing that has started, you still have some months before you will be able to do therapy and rehabilitation. It is difficult to say if you will regain full mobility."

"Your opinions are similar to Master Faelant's, but with such injuries it is much too early to speculate." Elrond suppressed a shiver, as he unwittingly perceived some of the Istar's thoughts. He shook them away and reached for the sling. Glorfindel stepped forward to help him.

"How did you survive?" Elrond was unsure if Saruman had been spoken aloud or if the voice only rang in his mind. Deciding on the former, he answered aloud.

"The advance of Glorfindel and Gildor's forced my captors to retreat across a tumultuous river during a storm. It was luck that the wild river gave me a chance to escape." Elrond met the Istar's probing gaze. Glorfindel watched their locked eyes, wondering how he would know if Elrond was in any danger.

"Our combined effort gave victory, where alone we would have failed." Glorfindel voiced the question to break the exchange. Relief filled him as two sets of eyes: one set green and annoyed, the other silver and unreadable, looked up at him.

"Did you uncover any connection between the traitors and our other enemies?" Elrond turned the subject back to the interrogation.

"Only that who ever controlled these elves was very methodical and appealed to reason. If there is a connection to ancient enemies, I could not uncover it. More likely, these elves were turned by the same Istar and Nazgul who made the attempt on your own life. You might have more to add to this report."

"You are setting down in writing that which you experienced?" Glorfindel looked over at the parchment curiously.

"Why would I not?" Saruman countered. "Perhaps others might find a clue either now or at a later date, which might shed light on the origin of our enemy. I think we should also pursue the palantir that you recovered."

"I think that would be unwise." The Lady's voice surrounded them, and a moment later she entered the room with several other council members. Elrohir entered behind them and took up an unobtrusive position, standing against the wall, well behind his father. The council had agreed that Elrond's sons should watch the proceedings, for the fear that one them might need to replace their Adar on the council. Glorfindel and Elrohir exchanged a glance that reassured the younger Peredhel.

"The Palantir surely holds the evidence that will unmask our enemy. Only a fool would not investigate further." Saruman's persuasive voice wove around them. Elrond described the power inherent in the seeing stones for he had observed his brother's descendents using them. He speculated what might happen when the stones were mastered by an enemy with a strong mind and will. The stones might magnify the user's strength and allow them to access the elven lands.

"I perceive that the power within it is much stronger and darker. It is too risky to use them here. Using them it might expose the defenses of Lothlórien." Galadriel reasoned as Saruman called the council to order. The first item on the agenda was to revisit the issue of the Palantir. Given that they had already begun to debate this issue, the arguments were heated. Gildor gave testimony on how he had recovered it from the Istar and what he had perceived from having it in his possession. A lengthy debate ensued as they weighed the pros and cons of examining it more closely. It was nearing lunchtime when Saruman broke from his tactics and tried to meet them head on.

"Elves possess weapons of great power yet hide them from the world seemingly neglecting their potential aid." Saruman met Galadriel's eyes as if to discern if she held a ring of power. Surely, it must be at least one of the elves on the council. Only the Lord of Mithlond and the Avari King were missing. Surely, the elves must be smart enough to employ such powerful talismans for the good of their people!

"How many other enemy baubles do you have that you refuse to share with the council?" Saruman spoke more quietly this time, weighing how he might convince them to divulge what they had kept secret for thousands of years. Arathorn stiffened at the implications that the elves would keep secret such powerful weapons and use them only defend their own people.

"We keep no baubles." Thranduil rose and motioned to his Seneschal, who had just entered. "If you were not able to glean information from the traitor, why take the greater risk of exposing yourself to the palantir? I for one believe Gildor's assessment. Let us adjourn until tomorrow." The others stirred at Thranduil's suggestion. Saruman nodded, now convinced that keeping them longer would only hurt his cause.

"Does anyone second the motion to adjourn?" Saruman asked as he raised his gavel. Angon seconded the motion. "All in favor?" At the nods of general consensus, Saruman tapped the gavel on the table. "We will disband until tomorrow afternoon."

From his position against the wall, Elrohir watched the council members file out of the Talan. Glorfindel raised his hand to his heart as a signal that he was relinquishing care of Elrond to him. Elrohir returned the symbolic gesture with a smile and stepped forward to help his Adar, who was less than gracefully in rising from his seat. Adar was obviously stiff and tired from the long session. The serious expression eased to a smile as Elrohir stepped closer.

"They could at least have provided you a seat." Elrond was dismayed at the council's audacity of specifying that his son stand in silent observation during the council proceedings. Even as a young apprentice to Lord Merwen, he had been allowed to sit at Gil-Galad's council table.

"What? And have to sit still under obvious scrutiny for the whole meeting? I much prefer standing in the back, where I can covertly observe the proceedings." Elrohir lifted up his Adar's gray cloak.

"It is not so cold outside." Elrond protested.

"Indulge me." Elrohir laughed lightly as he anticipated his Adar's next reaction. "Arwen has planned some events for this evening."

"Arwen?" The question was softly expressed although the worry rang clear in the rich timbers of his Adar's voice. Arwen and Celebrian shared a love for festivals and celebrations. Elrohir fought to keep the smile from his face and nodded somberly, as he settled the cloak around his Adar's shoulders and fastened the front clasp.

"Oh, I think she has a formal dinner with elaborate entertainment planned as a send off for you." Elrohir could not keep a straight face at the horror his words evoked. His laughter was bright and cheerful. "Forgive me Adar. I could not resist. We are having a quiet dinner in your Talan – just family."

"Dinner with you three is never quiet!" Elrond laughed in relief.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"Elladan and Elrohir never fail to entertain." Celeborn laughed openly now that they were back in their own Talan.

"It was an evening to treasure." Galadriel agreed. "Even Arwen opened up. She was nearly her vivacious self again."

"It has been far too long." Celeborn agreed. Elven grief was difficult to overcome. Arwen had taken the loss of her Naneth particularly hard.

"Celebrian will never again enjoy such an evening with her children." Galadriel said wistfully as she brushed out her hair.

"You can not know that for sure. Life changes but still there is joy." Celeborn interjected as he sat down behind his wife "I, for one, am dubious. The Dúnedain of recent years live hard lives with little time for scholarly or artistic pursuits. I find it hard to believe that Arwen would have much in common with one of these rather rough individuals. Their schooling is now limited to a handful of years in Imladris. To have enough in common to build a relationship or fall in love?" Celeborn leaned forward and kissed her neck.

"Lúthien fell in love with Beren."

"Ah, but Beren had an advantage. He was the first man she ever laid eyes on. He was one of a kind, an adventuresome spirit who stood out from all those uninspiring elves who were endlessly pursuing her. Arwen has met many men as well as many a Dúnedain chieftain. They can not rely on novelty."

"Arahad the second, Arassuil, Arathorn – even their names do not make them stand out. I cannot fathom why Arwen would love one of their ilk. This Dúnedain who takes our precious Granddaughter away must be very unusual for his people."

"Elu's setting of an unachievable bridal price also gave Beren the air of a forbidden suitor."

"Forbidden fruit is sometimes too enticing." She twisted in his grasp and caught his lips in a passionate kiss as she pushed him backwards on to their bed. His brow lilted upwards in surprise as he found himself underneath her. The golden strands of her silken hair were as a curtain that shut out the rest of the world. He felt desire flood her fëa and she pulled back from him to observe his face. Love, respect, desire, and admiration – so many feelings swirled in her eyes as they beheld him. The luscious lips descended again.


	19. Chapter 19 Partings & secondary effects

"Is that the first time your powers of persuasion have failed?" Saruman could have sworn that Mithrandir was teasing; however, the aged visage looked grave.

"Not the first time." Saruman's let a hint of exasperation creep into his voice. Two more long discussions had failed to produce the desired results. The elves still would not entertain suggestions to study the palantir more closely. The council had disbanded and the party from Imladris was gathering to depart. Across the meadow, Radagast was talking with Elrond. Each had a bird perched on their shoulder. Saruman held back a laugh at the inane picture it made.

"The Master of Imladris talks to birds as well?"

"The son of Elwing can communicate with them, although his communication is more limited than Radagast's." Mithrandir informed him.

"The son of Earendil?" Saruman observed the two more closely. Did Imladris glean intelligence of other nations from birds of the air? Mithrandir was not forthcoming. "Why have I not noticed this before?"

"Your mind has its own prejudices. It limits what you consider learned practices." Mithrandir pulled out his pipe.

"Please refrain from smoking. You drive them to distraction whenever you hold that thing. Why do you continue to provoke them?"

"Why do you continue to provoke them?" Mithrandir's brow turned upward in mirth. "A wizard must have his entertainment."

"At times you are worse than these after comers." Saruman sighed heavily.

"Can you remember before you were incarnate?" Mithrandir wrapped his treasured pipe carefully.

"Of course I can, how else would I know who I was?" Saruman raised his eyebrow inquiringly.

"I do not mean who you were, but how it felt to not be tied to this flesh?" Mithrandir gently placed the pipe in his pocket. "We were clothed in these bodies to more fully understand our tasks but in such bodies we are more prone to the temptations of the flesh and its pleasures and passions as well as its failings."

"You believe it is these temptations that lured our brother away from his task?" Saruman swirled his cordial. "Alatar would never have relinquished his staff. He was full of enthusiasm for his mission."

"How was he turned to darkness? How did he become our enemy?"

"Was he our enemy?"

"He was certainly no ally of the Lord of Imladris, who I count as one of my dear friends."

"If Alatar is lost to us so too is Pallando." Radagast had silently joined them. "We must be wary should he suddenly appear."

"Be wary of our brother?" Mithrandir was surprised by Radagast's assessment, for the brown wizard seldom talked about people.

"I think we would easily perceive if he had fallen to darkness."

"Perhaps they were enticed by the treasures in the east. The Haradrim have forged impressive cities."

"The world of men is dangerous and unpredictable. It may be in those cities where our brother was tested and failed." Radagast offered a piece of bread to his companion perched on his shoulder. The bird's iridescent blue back contrasted with his glistening white stomach. It reached gracefully with its golden beak to accept the offering. Radagast sang a short melody in which his friends could only pick out "Ula Le Yo" among the many syllables.

"They relay information?" Saruman was intrigued.

"Certainly not to those who insult them." As if in response the Kingfisher glared towards Saruman. "Nor to one who does not speak their language."

"Perhaps I have seriously misjudged these children of Eru. Forgive me." Saruman bowed slightly. Luimenel seemed unimpressed and ignored the white wizard, turning instead to gift a farewell melody to Radagast. The brown wizard answered in a wavering tenor, light and soft. Then the graceful bird lifted off on the gentle breeze.

"Where is Luimenel going?" Mithrandir asked curiously.

"His business is his own." Radagast answered casually as he followed the bird's progress.

"Is there word of enemies crossing on to Cair Andros?"

"The nesting areas are over populated this year. The Kingfishers have done too well and now seek out new homesteads."

"Word of our enemies, you fool." Saruman hissed in annoyance. "What use are bird habitats to us?" The outburst merely induced his brown companion to withdraw. The reticent wizard had always been uneasy among people, ever since their trip to the east. Saruman had loathed his fellow Istar from the moment that Yavanna hoisted the inane companion upon him. But now as Radagast sank down about ten feet from them and adopted a meditative pose, Saruman regretted his outburst. It seemed that the simpleton might have some use after all. The birds' undisturbed nesting areas must mean that the area was safe. Gondor must still hold Cair Andros. Perhaps, he too could train birds to gather information. These unobtrusive, ubiquitous creatures might be an excellent reconnaissance force.

"How did you ever manage to travel together?" Mithrandir's question startled him.

"We only spent a few weeks on the trail together." Saruman sighed as he turned to his friend. "Radagast would never willingly enter large settlements. Please forgive my outburst. It was a trying council session today."

"It is not me you should apologize to," Mithrandir pointed out. "But I am glad to see your sensible, self-composed nature returning. We were both worried that this unusual ill temper stemmed from your interactions with the traitor."

"Perhaps I should rest these old bones. I will never understand why Manwe chose to hamper us so much by choosing these physical forms. How are we to aid these people when they are unwilling to follow our council?" Saruman drank down the last of the cordial. If he could no longer probe the elves from Imladris, perhaps he might glean information from the Mirkwood party as to who held the elven rings.

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

"Adar?" Legolas' voice was uncharacteristically shy. Thranduil turned towards the fire. Legolas was absently tossing dry grass sprigs into the fire. His son had been unusually quiet during their discussion. It was to be expected now that his boisterous friends had departed. He smiled at the memories of Legolas cavorting with the Elrondionnath (sons of Elrond). Once his Captain and guards were out of earshot, he would see what troubled his son.

"What is it ion-nin?" Thranduil sat down next to his son, who suddenly looked more like the unsure elfling he used to be. The King sighed at his son's hesitancy and put his arm around the youth's shoulder.

"The fight against the darkness will grow worse." Legolas worried. "Even Lothlórien and Imladris are not safe."

"Nowhere is safe." Thranduil agreed. "But we are the most prepared to defend our homes. Your Daeradar, uncles and I designed a formidable fortress building on many lessons learned from past losses."

"My uncles will have a word or two to say about our misadventure." Legolas voice hitched slightly. Thranduil's brothers, especially Orodiun, were demanding taskmasters when it came to preparing the troops. Orodiun was head of the training program.

"I am sure they will. But our enemy had notice of our travel time and route. It was no accident that we were set upon and none could have foretold their great numbers." Thranduil agreed. "In the end, your uncles' high standards reflect all of our wishes to protect our people. We have lived through hardships that no one would wish ever repeated. But our experience is now to be employed in enhancing the security of the Golden Woods. It is our wisdom they seek to ensure their people's safety." Indeed, Thranduil noted how Haldir, Angon and Celeborn carefully considered the suggestions from the Greenwood kin. Thranduil could sense his son's apprehension at their return journey.

"Legolas, you have seen all the measures we have taken to plan a safe return journey." He pushed his own fear for his son to the side. His young warrior must face this head on. "You had a close call. It is only natural to feel apprehensive."

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"If you detour with us, it will add two weeks to your journey." Arathorn commented as he brushed down his mount. Glorfindel was tending to Asfaloth and to Elrond's mount, Windrider. "I think it might be better for the Peredhil for you to continue to Imladris as quickly as possible. It is difficult to say if the weather will hold. " Glorfindel looked over to the tent where Elrohir was currently tending to Elrond. Glorfindel did not want to push home too quickly, for there were still several wounded among their company, not to mention their Lord was having some difficulty riding in this rocky terrain.

"You no longer wish to travel with us?" Glorfindel turned his full attention back to the Dúnedain, whose expression was unreadable. "Or you wish to travel more swiftly?" He left the last possibility unspoken, not wishing to consider that the Dúnedain would withdraw their offer of hospitality. Today they had negotiated Redhorn pass and started their descent.

"I, for one, am glad elves are cooking tonight, Father." Argonui laughed. "It is no wonder Mother never lets you help in the kitchen."

"These elves have made you soft." Arathorn returned. Argonui grimaced, for in trying to lighten the air, he had hoped that his father would not slip yet again and slight the elves. Luckily, Glorfindel just shook his head in bemusement and finished grooming Asfaloth. It was a matter of some contention when Argonui had brought new ideas when he returned from his studies in Imladris. The Dúnedain council and his father refused to believe that the ideas were his own. There was ever the affront that the elves would take over the governance of the Dúnedain – a laughable worry, in Argonui's opinion.

Argonui walked with his father and their kinsman to set up their small tent. His Father had been unusually pensive and was obviously shaken by revelations from the councils. Saruman had hinted that some among the elves held a power they would not divulge or share even with the leader of the White Council. Argonui replayed his own reaction in his head.

"_I can not believe it.__ Are we not allies?"_

"_Allies only up to a point." His father had countered. "Let that be a lesson to you."_

"_But Elladan and Elrohir, Elrond's sons and heirs fight beside us with little regard for their own welfare. I can not believe there is anything Lord Elrond would withhold from us, were it in his power." _

"_And yet Saruman's accusations were not addressed. There is some truth in them." _

They set up their tent together, although it was clear that his Father was agitated. Bereg must have felt it too, for he was the first to offer conciliatory words.

"The Last Homely House has always been a refuge for our people. I have never seen nor heard of Master Elrond turning anyone away. All those of in need are provided for." Bereg offered.

"Sometimes I worry that the only records of the Dúnedain are the ones kept in Imladris." Belchel joined the discussion.

"There are records kept in Gondor." Arathorn disagreed.

"Have you traveled to Gondor, Father?" Argonui was intrigued. "Elladan was telling me about it. He visited there ten years ago."

"Can you even get through a single conversation without Elladan this or Elrohir that?" Arathorn bristled. It seemed his son nearly worshipped those elves.

"Master Elrond and his sons have always been our friends." Belchel stepped in to ease try to ease the tension. He knew his chieftain well. "I know this council was stressful and unsettling. But my Grandfather told me of how Master Elrond and his sons arrived in our hour of need and averted a tragedy that almost cost your family its very existence."

"In what distance past was that?" Arathorn returned.

"Arahad was chieftain at that time and his grandson Aravorn was friends with my Grandfather. The stories that I heard!" Belchel added. "Apparently Master Elrond plays football as well as his sons."

"That must be an old wives tale!" Arathorn smiled in disbelief. "Elladan and Elrohir are legendary in their football exploits."

"I think its true." Bereg interrupted as he drove in the final stake. "Elrohir told me the tale when we were on patrol."

"The stew already smells enticing." Argonui's cheer was contagious.

"The way to your heart is through your stomach." His Father could no longer hold back a smile. "Perhaps I will have to inform your Mother. Perhaps she knows some eligible women who are good cooks."

"Gentlemen, would you like some stew?" Areder bowed slightly. The young elf had completed his training while Argonui was in Imladris and still was a green as a new recruit. Argonui had been there for Areder's majority celebration. Yet the youth was nearly as old as Arathorn. How were mere mortals expected to wrap their minds around the concepts of elven life spans? His stomach growled.

"My son is starving." Arathorn smiled and tried to banish his ill temper as they joined the short line for the evening meal. Still, the Dúnedain kept mostly to himself or conversed with his men.

"Elladan!" Argonui was happy to see the Peredhel for perhaps his normally jovial friend could help ease the tension. "Come join us." Elladan accepted a bowl, pausing to speak a few word to the cook.

"How is your Adar? He looked weary and in pain when we stopped." Argonui ignored his Father's glare.

"Good evening Arathorn." Elladan sat down next to Argonui and nodded to the others. "Belchel, Bereg. It was a difficult descent today. Adar's shoulder pains him but we did not see any further injury. Elrohir is finishing with the bandages and they should join us shortly." Elladan was well aware of Arathorn's moods, for he and Elrohir often visited with the Dúnedain. He and Argonui kept the conversation jovial.

"If enough rangers are present, perhaps we can even organize a friendly football game." Argonui suggested.

"Surely, you are both too old for that full contact sport." Glorfindel teased as they helped Elrond to a seat by the fire. Then Elrohir went to procure some stew for them.

"Good to see that you are still with us Master Elrond." There was sarcasm in Arathorn's voice, but to Argonui's relief he stopped himself from voicing a derogatory comment when Elrond looked up at him. The silver eyes were lined with pain. Elrond accepted a spoon and lifted a bite from the bowl that Elrohir held.

"It is just a little adversity." Elrond laughed lightly.

"A little indeed." Elrohir rolled his eyes. "Just wait until Cirulian hears. According to him, you barely made it to your majority."

"I have not heard those accounts in years." Elrohir grinned. "Perhaps we should coax him to retell some of those stories."

"He has a tendency to embellish things." Glorfindel smiled at Elrond's reply. He had heard enough accounts to know that this particular Teler did not exaggerate.

"Try a few more bites Ada." Elrohir coaxed, now that he realized the pain draughts had taken effect. But Elrond politely refused and his son could tell that he wanted to lie down. Glorfindel took their bowls and Elrohir helped his Adar to rise.

"Do you withhold powerful talismans from us Master Elrond?" Arathorn stood surprisingly close as he tried to gage the truthfulness of those dazed silver eyes.

"I would never deny my brother's descendents. Imladris has been and will continue to be a haven for all for elves, Dúnedain, Hobbits and others who seek safety in our borders."

"Yes, if we consent to your rule." Arathorn probed.

"There are several thousand men, women and children within our valley. They are represented on our council and participate in decisions." Elrond sighed and rubbed his temple. His voice was weary but Arathorn could sense no deception; however, neither could he banish Saruman's persuasive arguments. Elrohir held his tongue. "I do not know where this animosity originates from, but here is neither the time or place to probe it more deeply. Perhaps in the safety of your village or in Imladris, we could discuss your misgivings."

"We are allies. It is not animosity only shock and misgivings from discussions in Lothlórien." Arathorn relented. "But you are correct that it is better discussed once you are returned to health and we are in secure surroundings. Good night Master Elrond."

"Good night Lord Arathorn." Elrond and Elrohir spoke together. Elladan moved up to stand next to his father.

"Come Adar. Tomorrow is another long journey. You need to rest."


	20. Chapter 20 Imladris

The valley was calm today, unlike the terrible month of unsettled wind and weather that had plagued them after the party departed for the White Council. Erestor sighed and said a prayer yet again to Eru to protect friends and loved ones who ventured far from the protected valley. They should have returned weeks ago. At this late date, they risked traversing a snow and ice laden mountain pass. _"No_," a voice in his head whispered._ "Either they have already crossed the pass or they opted to overwinter in Lothlórien." _He could sense the ebb of Vilya. Its unnatural powers wove a protective net around the valley and kept its inhabitants safe and hidden from intruders. The net was weakening now that Vilya had been absent for a season. The valley was yet protected but craved the ring's presence and its power. Its inhabitants were subtly influenced by this change. People were more wary and worried than when their Lord resided in the valley. A few more months and Vilya's hold would dissipate enough to allow wild and potentially dangerous animals to cross the boundaries. Cirulian had been going over defense protocols that would need to be implemented were the ring's protections to fail. These were implemented from time to time to keep the warriors who guarded the valley ready.

"They should be returning soon." Silsilalda stepped up beside him. "I have notified the staff to prepare for injured."

"You think there will be injured?" Erestor turned to face her.

"I know not. But it is apparent that you expect there to be. Besides, the patrol yesterday returned with minor injuries." The patrol had unexpectedly met up with orcs, who had obviously been separated from their contingent and were wandering, lost and hungry in the wilderness.

"Yes, I know." Erestor interrupted her. He did not want to even contemplate travelers being overrun by the bands of orcs that seemed to cross the White Mountains far too frequently. "Is everyone well?"

"Ithillin's wrist will remain splinted for another week. Then he will need some weeks of therapy and rehabilitation before he regains full motion."

"Perhaps he will also need some counseling. You remember his long bought with battle fatigue and the reason he left Lothlórien for Imladris." A group of engineers had accompanied the patrol downriver to assess the effects of a recent mudslide. They had deemed the area too unstable to work on but options for stabilizing the area were currently being debated.

"How could I forget!" Silsilalda returned. "It was one of the more dramatic incidents that has taken place in the Great Hall. I have already had a long discussion with his wife. She is familiar with potential symptoms and will alert us immediately."

Xxxxxxxxxx Governing committee of Imladris xxxxxxxxxX

Imladris and the Last Homely House were unlike most elven realms in that opinions of all its residents were very much valued through its governing council. Elves traded off the honor of representing their people on the governing council. The distinction of chairing the council rotated between just four elves and now fell to Erestor. The number of committee members was tied to the population in the valley. Usually Edain representatives sat on the council, although fewer Edain lived in the valley today than in previous centuries. Erestor watched as their two representatives proudly took their place at the table.

"I call the council to order. May Eru guide us in our decisions and deliberations." Erestor tapped the gavel on the table. Merwen rose and led them in a prayer.

"The first item on our agenda is valley security. Cirulian would you please summarize the mudslide site and the following incident with the engineers?" Erestor held back a smile at Cirulian's concise summary, typical for the terse Teleri. He stuck to the facts with no embellishment and little detail. The council erupted with questions, for an unstable access road would stymie trade with the valley. After the discussions were concluded the council turned to issues of food stocks and fuel, which was primarily wood but some geothermal vents in the intricate caves that ran under the settlement provided power and also a small amount of coal was also used. Yule preparations were next on the agenda.

"Who will lead the Yule ceremonies if Master Elrond has not returned?" Ander asked. He was among the oldest Edain resident of the valley, an honor announced by his snow colored hair.

"_Old he might be for a man, but he had certainly not lost any of his mental acuity."_ Erestor noted as Ander proceeded to outline possibilities as well as to summarize the preparations his people had undertaken. The sun was low in the sky once the discussions had finally concluded.

"There remain six items for our attention." Erestor reminded them.

"I move we schedule an additional meeting at the end of the week to deal with these issues." Merwen suggested.

"I second the motion." Cirulian added.

"All in favor?" Erestor tried not to smile at the unanimous vote. Usually it was difficult to convince the majority without major debates and discussions.

"This meeting is adjourned." The gavel struck the table once and the official discussions came to a halt, signaling louder unofficial discussions, as everyone seemed to speak at once. Erestor fingered the ornate gavel. It was one he had brought from Mithlond over an age ago. It was not unusual for him to lead the council. Indeed, he had traded off the honor with Elrond, Ithlathron, and even Elladan at times. It was true that Elrond had a natural gift for building consensus and seemed to know everything that occurred in the valley. His people loved him dearly, a fact that the humble Lord never took advantage of. The Edain in the council had the preposterous idea that a single elf ruled continuously for millennium. Erestor smiled at the thought. The Edain with their shorter lifespan did not seem to appreciate that elves rotated their positions and developed many different skills over their long lives. Although it was commonly assumed that Erestor and Glorfindel were Elrond's top advisors, Cirulian and Glorfindel had shared the responsibilities of Seneschal over the Millennium while Merwen and he rotated the duties of Chief Counselor. Elrond and Glorfindel were two of his dearest friends. Given all the departures and losses of these last few hundred years, Erestor would be more than happy to have them home. He was relieved to have own family safe in the valley. For Gwidian and their children often spend decades with Gwidian's parents among the Avari. Erestor was proud that his children often acted as ambassadors between the two peoples; however, he much preferred having his family near in these treacherous times.

"What are you pondering there, Adar? They will come home safely." Eruingal laid a gentle arm on his father's shoulder. Erestor looked up, slightly embarrassed at being so transparent. His son laughed.

"It is not often I catch the wise Seneschal of Imladris daydreaming."

"Daydreaming?" Erestor snorted. "Nay, I was deliberating."

"So you say. What proof can you offer?" Eruingal laughed at his Adar's dark look. "But it is nearly time for dinner. Gwaefaer has been fine-tuning her case for us visiting the Havens this summer." His sister was a force to be reckoned with and her mind was set on visiting Cirdan's Haven as well as those in Mithlond. Trained by Erestor, she excelled at the fine art of debate.

_Xxxxxxxxxx Weeks later xxxxxxxxxxxX_

Chimes rang out the call for dinner. Erestor sighed and put down his pen. Another evening and friends were still unaccounted for. After stowing away the document he had been working on, he rose, straightened his robes and checked his hair before considering his cloak, hung on the coat-rack. _"Chilly but not yet cold." _He thought. Yet he threw the cloak over his arm and proceeded out into the hall and down the main staircase.

The vines that framed the arbor were still green, Erestor reflected as he walked the familiar path that connected the main house to the great hall. The gentle zephyr that toyed with his hair gusted unexpectedly. Erestor gasped as he felt the valley sing out in greeting. Over the years, his close friendship with Elrond had slowly enabled him to sense Elrond's connection with the valley as well as to recognize the subtle effects of Vilya. What he felt now alarmed him greatly. The valley – trees, plants, and creatures were demanding not greeting. It felt like the crying, no, the pleading need of addiction. Erestor's skin tingled and there was a metallic tang on his tongue as Elrond, no doubt, responded with Vilya. It was a demand that made him again fearful of the effects of this unnatural creation from Celebrimbor.

"_It is not yet a demand, but it will become one. Lothlórien already has this dependence on one of the three. Elrond was wise to wait employ Vilya until its use became a necessity."_ Celeborn had warned Elrond's small circle of protectors. While many in the valley looked out for their Lord, only a small number of elves guarded their Lord's dangerous secret. Erestor mentally listed the effects that Celeborn had warned of. Celebrimbor's creations were double-edged swords. How did the elf craft such powerful talismans without the aid of the Valar or Maiar? Erestor shivered as he wondered what price the bearers paid in their use.

"_The only explanation is that Elrond was alive and has entered the valley."_ Erestor registered. The travel party would need a half hour or more to descend the path into the protected haven, depending on their haste. With this forewarning, Erestor set out to prepare for their arrival. _"Thank Eru, Elrond has survived another journey." _Erestor thought. _"But why should he be surprised, for Elrond's longevity and fortitude in the face of adversity was legendary." _He was happy to readily locate Bredeli, the elleth who help prepare Elrond's chambers.

"Lady Bredeli, I just received notice that our Lord's party is beginning their descent into the valley."

"Master Elrond returns!" Bredeli repeated excitedly. "I will light the fires in the family wing and prepare the baths."

"Thank you." Erestor smiled at the Lady's excitement as he hurried off to gather the healers and inform the cook. He was surprised to meet both Silsilalda and Cirulian at the entrance to the hall of fire. The head healer was already spouting directions to several of the junior healers.

"Daintárien round up a contingent to assess the returning warriors, in case of any injuries."

"Yes, my Lady." Daintárien and Faengur nodded their assent and took their leave.

"I expect them to arrive before dark." Erestor met Silsilalda's gaze with a smile and held the door for her. They stepped back out into the courtyard. The very air seemed to shimmer, leaves danced joyously in the wind, while the branches swirled a welcome greeting. Joy rose in his heart. He could sense the underlying peace and generosity that was his friend's spirit.

"And you were so worried!" Silsi held up her hand. "Do not even say it. I have arranged for a number of healers to stand by in case there are any injured." Erestor thanked her and went to inform the grooms in the stables. After all there would be a team of horses to be cared for! His footsteps were as light as his heart. There was no question in his mind – Elrond was returning to the valley. There would be celebrations in the coming days.

Dusk came early for the solstice was not far off. Indeed, the autumn sky was painted in the fading oranges and yellow of the setting sun as the large contingent of warriors entered the stable yard in pairs. Erestor and Silsi waited near the houses of healing. Five horses continued with their riders up the trail to them, the typical protocol when carrying injured. Erestor realized that it was Glorfindel who held a cloaked figure in front of him on Asfaloth. It did not take them long to recognize the travel cloak.

"Elrond!" Erestor gasped in worry and dismay as Glorfindel stopped in front of him.

"The journey was difficult, and we decided to press ahead to reach the valley tonight. Erestor, be mindful of his left arm and shoulder." Glorfindel explained in stoic tones as he shifted his Lord to help him more easily dismount. The hood fell back to reveal the dark head, although Elrond's eyes were shut in either exhaustion or pain, Erestor could not discern which. Serious azure eyes met Erestor's as they silently exchanged their promise to protect their friend. Glorfindel eased the Peredhel on to the ground and into Erestor's outstretched arms. As he touched his friend, a shock pass briefly through him and a metallic taste settled on his tongue. Erestor gasped slightly.

"Forgive me. I am tired." The soft tenor apologized.

"You are injured. There is nothing to forgive." Dazed eyes fluttered open but not the pure silver that he expected. No, Elrond's eyes were tinged blue and his brow was creased as if in deep concentration.

"Elrond!" Erestor hissed in warning. The Peredhel quickly understood and shut his eyes as he leaned forward to rest against Erestor's shoulder. With the power he had felt flow through the valley earlier, it was little wonder that Elrond was exhausted. But what claim did the ring have on Elrond? Why were his eyes tainted an unnatural blue? As if in answer the wind swirled greedily around them.

"I will take him." It was a command not a request. Erestor was surprised to hear such tones from Elrond's son. Elladan wrapped his arm around his father's waist and drew him close. Erestor acknowledged the command with a nod and stepped back, quickly looking around to assess who might have witnessed the incident. A groom stood by Glorfindel, who was apologizing to Asfaloth and promising to come see his faithful steed later. Elrohir was consulting with Silsilalda in hushed tones. The Healer had only recently learned of Elrond's secret and was now heeding the restrictions to remain in the safety of the valley unless properly escorted. Safety lay in secrecy, which was easier to ensure when fewer people held such knowledge. Cirulian was giving orders to several of his warriors. Erestor saw two guards turn to follow the Master of the House. He considered what to tell others. It was likely the guards would stand watch at the entrance to the family wing, preventing all but a handful of elves from entering. Others would undoubtedly be charged to assess and speak with all the returning elves.

"I can walk … just weary." Erestor could barely hear Elrond's breathless whisper. The Elf Lord leaned heavily on his son.

"Of course you can Ada, but with a little help." Elladan's voice was soothing. "It is a some distance to your rooms."

"I, for one, am looking forward to a warm bath and a nice glass of wine." Glorfindel announced jovially as he stepped up on their left. The cheerful golden warrior offered his support, mindful of Elrond's still tender left side.

"A warm bath and roaring fire await." Erestor watched in amazement as Elladan and Glorfindel coaxed the Lord of Imladris along the path and up into the house.

Elrohir stepped up to Erestor as Silsilalda darted back to the house of healing to assemble the required herbs and healing draughts. The junior healers were assessing several warriors with minor injuries.

"What on Arda happened Elrohir?" Erestor asked.

"We will explain once Adar is warmed up and resting." Elrohir started to walk toward their residence then turned. "Could you have some soup sent up?"

"Of course Penneth." Erestor was glad to see a small smile spread across the Peredhel's face at the use of the endearment. "Anything else?"

"Some warm blankets perhaps, it was too cold on the trail. I," Elrohir paused, and Erestor could see that he was also weary. He reached out and embraced the younger elf.

"It is good to have you home. Go bathe. It will refresh you. Your story can wait a little longer." Erestor ordered and turn towards the kitchens to arrange for a meal to be sent up for the returnees. It promised to be a long evening for he would not rest until he had heard the full story. From the soft muttering, it was clear that Cirulian felt the same way.

Xxxxxxxx

"Stop pacing." Erestor admonished quietly as Cirulian traversed the short path in front of the study's fireplace for what seemed like the fiftieth time. The warrior looked suitably chastised and paused to look towards the open bedroom door. Elrohir and Silsi were assessing Elrond's injured arm while Glorfindel stood behind brushing out Elrond's freshly washed hair. They were seated in the cozy sitting area in Elrond's room. The thick curtains were drawn closed, damping the call of the wind. After Celebrian's departure, Elrond's sons and close friends had redecorated his room as a surprise to help Elrond readjust to life with out his beloved. Elrohir appeared much refreshed and was dressed in comfortable sleep clothes. His Adar sat with his eyes closed, clothed in soft navy pants with a towel still wrapped around his upper torso. His face was strained and pale but markedly better than when he arrived. Elladan lounged on the bed behind them observing the proceedings. Erestor and Cirulian exchanged horrified looks for the umpteenth time. Although they were waiting to hear the full story, Elrond's injuries revealed more than enough. Both were filled with dread.

"Can you feel this?" Silsi asked as she gently probed his arm, watching closely for his reaction. Then she gently traced the major artery and applied the salve. "I think just a light wrap is required. Can you describe the pain?"

"As pins and needles with." Elrond stiffened and his voice wavered then fell silent. When he relaxed again, he admitted. "Occasional shooting pains."

"The draught is not helping?" Concern filled Elrohir's. "I can mix a stronger one."

"No need," Elrond shook his head slightly and his exasperation was audible. "Hopefully, I will be allowed to sleep soon."

"Meditation can also help." Glorfindel continued running his fingers soothingly through the silken strands.

"The pain is a positive sign." Silsi commented. "It signals nerves slowly knitting back together."

"Why do you get the softest pillows Adar as well as the biggest bed?" Elladan teased from behind them. He has stroking a purring white cat.

"I think you exaggerate." Elrond returned. Erestor smiled at the memory of the twins sampling all the bedrooms in the family wing. They determined that their parents' bed was the most comfortable. Little did they know, Celebrian had taken it upon herself to create a luxurious haven in the Master Suite. Indeed, there were standing orders with the quilters and pillow makers. It was so ingrained in the household staff that even though Celebrian had been gone for hundreds of years, several farmers who breed ducks, still regularly sent fine feathers for Elrond's pillows. Erestor doubted that his Lord was aware of any of this, for Celebrian had kept it her secret.

"This occurred two months ago?" Silsi clarified as she assessed the area again. "It is healing more rapidly than I would have expected. Perhaps your background or maybe," she whispered, "aid from a different source. Open your eyes." Elrond remained silent with closed eyes. Glorfindel moved in front of Elrond, blocking Erestor's view.

"Once before the blue specs of sapphire imbued your eyes but dissipated quickly. None understands the strength or effects of this power." He continued calmly while squeezing Elrond's good hand. "You are far from alone." Erestor and Cirulian rose silently to stand in the doorway, where they had a better view. Elrond opened his eyes slowly. Erestor was relieved to see the dominant color was silver, although he thought some blue tinges indeed remained. Glorfindel caught and held his friend's eyes. Erestor was sure that he saw a golden glow pass between them. It was long moments until they broke gazes.

"And your assessment?" Elrond said tiredly, Glorfindel's bright smile lit the room.

"With rest and care, you will be well." Glorfindel said as he returned to his chosen position behind Elrond. "You did admirably to cover such a great distance so injured."

"Almost done Hir nin." Silsi deftly covered the injuries with a light bandage.

"How many times have I asked you to use my name?" Elrond voice held annoyance.

"I have lost count my Lord." She teased as Elrohir slipped the soft shirt over his Adar's injured arm and helped him button it. "You cannot teach an old dog as it were." Elrond's sons both gasped then laughed.

"That is no excuse. You were a young junior healer when we met and I was but"

"A young prince Hir-nin." Silsi interrupted as she helped him to stand. She turned and faced him, scrutinizing his stance and comparing the injured shoulder with the other side. Elrond shifted in pain and exhaustion. His sons readied the bed. "The next week is best spent in bed with low impact activities. Then we can assess the nerves again. Perhaps in another week or two the nerves will have healed enough to start some rehabilitation."

"Would you like to eat something?" Elrohir asked.

"Not now, thank you." Elrond yawned. His small entourage of worried friends led him to his bed. Elrohir and Elladan help settle their Adar into bed and smoothed the covers around him. Erestor and Cirulian entered the room to wish their dear friend good night.

"Are you warm enough Ada?" The concern in Elrohir's voice made him sound younger than his years. Erestor noted in surprise how Glorfindel settled himself in the large reading chair next to the bed as if he intended to stay and keep watch. Only now did he realize that Glorfindel wore his sleep robes.

"Yes, thank you Ion-nin." Elrond smiled at his son. "It is good to be home."

"Good night Ada." Elladan leaned down to kiss his father as Elrohir herded everyone but Glorfindel from the room. Finally, Elladan followed and closed the door behind him. Erestor, Cirulian, Silsilalda and Elrond's sons were gathered in their Adar's study. A warm fire and a cart with covered dishes awaited them.

"And Glorfindel's been guarding him at night?" Erestor noted the increased intimacy between Glorfindel and the three Peredhil.

"To ward away the trying memories and most importantly to keep the siren call of the wind at bay." Elladan admitted as he gratefully accepted a glass of wine and sat down at the table.

"The wind?" The dawning knowledge wrenched the question from Erestor. Celebrian was fretful that Elrond's spirit would be forever lost to the wind. Again fear filled his heart at the story he was about to hear. He poured wine for everyone as they ladled the soup into bowls and cut generous slices of bread. Elrohir and Elladan surprised him by bowing their heads in prayer.

"We thank Eru for watching over us on our journey and for bringing us safely home."


	21. Chapter 21 What consequences?

Carfaron (deed hunter) had never grown into his name, becoming instead an amazing chef. His friends spent hours thinking of potential epessë that would suit him, although he had still not found one to his liking. He was affectionately known as "Cook", a title that brought him much happiness. Cook turned the corner to the door of his domain and took a deep breath to fully appreciate the pastry chef's morning creations. He smiled at the heavenly aromas of vanilla and freshly baking bread and detected an unexpected lilt of honey.

"Honey cakes and vanilla biscuits! Cheredeth you are certainly outdoing yourself this morning." Cheredeth, the baker was already preparing the fourth tray of aurcram, the lightly sweetened breakfast cakes.

"Good morning Cook. It is early for you to be up and about." She smiled brightly. They were well matched in the kitchen and had trained countless apprentices together.

"It is a day to celebrate. So many friends have at last returned."

"Thank Elbereth for their safe arrival. I have some ideas to make tonight's dinner extra special." Cook turned to see another figure coming towards them. The elf was looking downward, seemingly concentrating on his steps. Shiny dark unbound hair cascaded to the elf's waist while rich sleepwear protruded from a faded blue robe. The total picture was one of vulnerability, which the elf was most probably unaware of. Cook could not imagine who might be up searching for food at this hour. "We are not yet ready for breakfast." He called to the approaching figure.

"Perhaps you might make an exception?" The other asked hopefully, finally looking up. Familiar silver eyes looked back at him. Cook held back a gasp as he recognized the figure.

"My Lord! Welcome back! Please come sit down." Cook exclaimed as he ran to greet him. "Let me help you. How can I best help you?" Cook stopped suddenly unsure of how to help. He had heard that Lord Elrond was injured. He did not want to risk accidentally harming the beloved elf. The Lord of Imladris was out of breath and seemed slightly disoriented. Wet leaves stuck to the bottom of his house shoes, revealing that he probably traversed the shorter outdoor path to the kitchens.

"Careful of my left arm and shoulder." Elrond admitted as he swayed slightly. Cook caught him carefully under his right arm. Noting how chilled the clothing beneath his hands was, he led him to a table by the ovens. Elrond chose the chair on the side of the ovens and closed his eyes, obviously savoring the warmth.

"Can I get you a cloak? Should I contact the healers?" Cook worried and turned to grab his cloak off the hanger.

"I was hoping to sample a vanilla biscuit. They smell wonderful." Elrond's stomach rumbled, and he blushed uncharacteristically. "I fell asleep before the evening meal."

"The Aurcram require ten minutes more." Cheredeth fretted as Cook draped his cloak over the Master's shoulders.

"But let it not be said that I left my Lord in his need." Cook chortled readily as he grabbed a pan and rustled up the ingredients for a two-egg omelet. He was well acquainted with his Lord's preferences and lamented the fact that fiddleheads were out of season. Perhaps he would alter the evening menu to include a savory soup as he knew that his Lord particularly enjoyed creamy soups in the winter. It was in the mists of this preparation that the first of their apprentices arrived. The young elf stood gaping at the Master of Imladris until Cook sent him off to inform Lord Erestor of their early morning visitor. Soon Elrond was happily indulging in a pepper and mushroom omelet and enjoying the easy banter between the kitchen staff.

Xxxxxxx

Erestor, always a morning riser, had just finished showering and dressing and was braiding his hair when he heard the commotion in the hallway. He quickly donned his house shoes and went to investigate. A young elf, Rhídor, was talking to the guards.

"But he is in the kitchen." The elfling repeated, visibly quaking. The warriors, who dwarfed him in size, daunted him. "Cook just sent me to inform Lord Erestor."

"Inform me of what, Penneth?" Erestor stepped up to them.

"The Master," the young elf blushed and sputtered "in the kitchen. I mean to say Lord Elrond is in the kitchen. Could you send his cloak?"

"Our Lord is still in his rooms. No one past here." The guard contradicted the boy.

"_If our Lord wants to move about unseen." _Erestor thought as he held back a smile and commented aloud. "Perhaps our Lord walked by when you were changing shifts. He did miss the evening meal." The guards were adamant in their dismissal of that possibility.

"What is going on?" Erestor was shocked to see Elladan emerge from Elrond's study. The Peredhel was fully dressed and had obviously been working. He was quick to recognize the young elf, for all elves and edain who resided in the valley were required to take basic weapons training. Rhídor had been all left thumbs and his archery classmates were lucky to have escaped unscathed from the experience. The elfling was of the age where they rotated among internships to encourage them to choose a career.

"Your Adar is apparently enjoying an early break of fast in the kitchens." Erestor informed him. "Did you know he was awake?"

"I had not heard anything, but I was concentrating on the pile of documents on his desk. So, he could not wait for the morning meal." Elladan smiled in amusement. "I could use a bite as well. Thank you Rhídor for informing us. I will be down momentarily with his cloak."

"But no one passed us." One of the guards gaped.

"Do not worry." Glorfindel appeared like a sunbeam, brightening the hallway. Elrond's cloak was draped over his arm. "Should the Lord of Imladris wishes to roam unseen in his own house, surely he is allowed. Please remain here on watch, should our elusive Lord reemerge." Both warriors bowed slightly with their hands over their hearts in acknowledgement of the cheerfully delivered order. Glorfindel and Elladan exchanged quick words with Erestor. The chief councilor was quick to pick up on their unvoiced worries pertaining to Celebrimbor's ring of the air. The prior evening, Erestor had been surprised to learn that Elrond had carried on a chain around his neck on their return journey instead of wearing it on his hand, as had been the case for over a thousand years. Erestor turned to first inform Elrohir of the change in morning plans. He also intended to check his Lord's chambers to see if Vilya was secure. Elladan glanced back over his shoulder to make sure the guards were indeed out of earshot before voicing his queries.

"You did not notice Adar leave this morning?"

"He must have woken very early for I heard nothing." Glorfindel was embarrassed to admit. Glorfindel omitted the fact that he fell asleep on the large reading chair and was at a loss to explain how he had ended up peacefully slumbering on Elrond's oversized bed. Thankfully, Elladan did not probe further.

"Unless he decided to jump from his balcony, which I sincerely doubt, Adar would have had to walk right by the guards."

"Elladan, one does not place the Lord of Imladris under house arrest." Glorfindel teased.

"We just stationed guards there for Ada's safety."

"We did not tell him that there were guards, perhaps he was so intent on his destination that he did not notice them."

"Glorfindel!" Elladan sighed audibly.

"I remember a tiny elleth, who eluded many a guard including her brothers, simply by thinking herself invisible."

"She was a tiny child who could slip away unseen. This is a grown elf."

"A grown elf who similarly eluded many of the best guards in the Kings service."

"No! Really?" Elladan was astounded by the revelation. They were drawing near to the kitchens and could already hear Cook and Cheredeth animatedly discussing some incident. They emerged into the bright open workspace that was Imladris' kitchens.

"Fair morning to you!" Glorfindel greeted as he quickly surveyed the area. Cook and Cheredeth were deep in preparations for the morning meal. They waved to them. Several apprentices and helpers were loading the carts with plates and utensils. Elrond sat unobtrusively in the corner, next to the massive ovens. Glorfindel noted the blank look and stiff demeanor, signs that the Lord was mentally checking the security of the valley. He immediately moved in front of the elf Lord. He gently laid his hand on Elrond's shoulder and waited quietly, knowing that the brightness and familiarity of his fëa would be of comfort.

"_Mele? Gwador?" _Elrond's confused voice rang quietly in his head. He focused his thoughts towards his friend.

"_Mellon-nin, we are in the kitchen. Should we move to another room, so you can relay your observations?" _Glorfindel spoke mind-to-mind and then aloud for the benefit of others. A chilled hand reached up to cover his. He turned his hand both to hold it and to feel for the ring of power. But Vilya did not lie on Elrond's finger nor did seem to be on his person for its song was faint. "How are you feeling, my Lord? Shall I send for Silsilalda?"

"Are you well Ada?" Elladan knelt in front of him, listening for the ring's melody. The experience of having the ring's power flow through him as it had healed Legolas had left him with the ability to detect its melody when it was close by. Its absence was puzzling. He was thankful that they had ordered the guards to remain in the hall outside the family wing, for he did not believe that his Adar carried the ring of power.

"I was just hungry but that has been remedied." Elrond voice lacked its characteristic authority. He blinked dazedly as his son picked some wet leaves off his slippers.

"It would seem so, Ada. The guards swear they did not see you walk by and you obviously took the shortcut through the gardens even though it is rather brisk out to say the least." Elladan teased but straightened as he saw his Adar's eyes focus and narrow.

"Since when does someone require permission to go to the kitchens?" Elrond's left brow rose slightly.

"We were usually admonished and sent away empty handed." Elladan smiled as he stood up.

"You were apt to adopt stealth strategies and other unmentionable actions." Elrond's lips curved into an answering smile. "I, on the other hand, simply asked and was rewarded by Cook and Cheredeth with a delicious breakfast and wonderful entertainment."

"You are very welcome my Lord." Cook bowed slightly with his hand over his heart while Cheredeth beamed at the compliments. "Perhaps you might consider trading jobs and joining us in creating culinary delights for a year."

"Have you tasted his healing draughts?" Elladan inquired, his lips curving into a smile.

"I sweeten them with honey when possible, although some medicinal agents are rendered less effective in mixtures." Elrond informed him.

"Ah, but I hazard to guess that it has been a long time since you last cooked a meal?" Glorfindel gathered Elrond's hair into a loose pony tale and tied it back with a small cord.

"Not in several thousand years." Elrond acknowledged as he rose. For the first time in a month, he was not wearing a sling. Raised eyebrows and a wordless glance passed between Elladan and Glorfindel as they noted how stiffly Elrond held himself. Obviously, the healing draught had worn off. Elladan moved to his Father's side.

"Stop your worrying. Healing can not be rushed." Elrond chided, his voice and eyes leaving no doubt that though he might be injured, he was still the Lord of Imladris.

"Then the time is ripe for a change." Cook laughed, having missed the exchange. "Although perhaps we best wait until you are recovered."

"Some morning snacks for you and your brother." Cheredeth offered a tray filled with honey and vanilla breads, cheeses and jams. Elladan's eyes widened in surprise as he gratefully accepted the tray. Glorfindel reacted by moving close enough to his friend to offer assistance should it be needed but not so close as impinge on his personal space.

"I prefer the warmer route indoors, if you do not mind." The golden warrior flashed an impish grin.

"As you wish." Elrond's serious mien was met with Glorfindel's splendid laughter.

"Come Ada, we should get you into warmer clothes." Elladan worried as they exited the kitchen.

"I am fine Ion-nin. I do not require warmer clothes."

"You chose a seat by the fire. You were cold." Elrohir pointed out.

"Because I decided to take the garden path."

"Elrohir is preparing a healing draught for you. Then you should rest." Elladan continued. Glorfindel tried not to smile at the less than satisfied 'humph' that left Elrond's lips, knowing that the noble Lord was trying to be patient with his sons, who were dangerously close from turning overbearing in their zeal to keep their remaining parent safe.

"Was there any movement along the borders that I should be aware of?" Glorfindel thought it time to change the subject. Elrond halted and turned to face him. The bright silver eyes flashed in concern.

"I sense several stray bands of orcs beyond the eastern border, less than ten to a group. We should at the very least send reinforcements to our outpost."

"How far from the border."

"Well beyond the border. My sight does not extend so far as to judge distance. I was surprised that I sensed them at all." Elrond frowned. They were approaching the ornately carved doors that marked the library, having not yet passed any others awake and about. The Peredhel Lord paused for a moment to consider his options and found that he needed to wave off the offered help from his overzealous companions. "There were a few books I wanted to consult. Perhaps I will spend the morning in the library."

"Adar you should rest." Elladan blurted out and was met with a dark glare from his Father.

"I am unlikely to do anything strenuous in the library." The sharper tone of the usually dulcet tenor alerted Glorfindel to the danger and the golden warrior tried to diffuse the situation. It was very rare for the Lord to lose his temper, unlike their dear departed King.

"Perhaps we should consult further in your rooms this morning. I would summon Cirulian and we could talk further about the borders."

"You can discuss the matter with Cirulian directly." Elrond countered still intent on settling in his favorite reading nook.

"Elrohir is bringing a healing draught."

"I do not require any of your heavy handed sleep inducing teas. It has been two months since the injury and my arm is healing well enough to start rehabilitation exercises in another week or two."

"But you are obviously in some discomfort Ada."

"_Elladan could be stubborn as stubborn as his Adar."_ Glorfindel thought amusedly although he resolved to try to mitigate Elladan's overbearing attitude. If he were in Elrond's place, he would have given the young elf a good dressing down. Elrond rubbed his brow, obviously reminding himself again of his sons' good intentions, unnecessary and irksome as they were. After a short discussion, they continued back to the family quarters.

"Guards?" Elrond noted with surprise as the warriors greeted them. "They were here earlier?"

"You passed this way?" Glorfindel inquired quietly. An affirmative nod was the reply. They continued down the corridor to Elrond's chambers, where Erestor, Elrohir, Cirulian, Merwen and Silsilalda were having an animated conversation. Elrond winced at their loud voices.

"Where were you? We were worried." Erestor exclaimed. Elrond simply shrugged and walked past the tumultuous group.

"Why did you not tell the guards were you were going?" Elladan exclaimed.

"A healing draught." Elrohir offered but Elrond waved it away. Elrohir, steaming cup in hand, followed his Father over to the sitting area, where Elrond chose the comfortable reading chair and settled down.

"You might have been injured. Who knows what could have happened." Silsilalda continued. Glorfindel leaned against the closed door and watched the spectacle. He had not seen so many elves trying to speak at one time in many a yen.

"Quiet!" Everyone halted, stunned by the command and menace one world could hold. "While it is true that I am still recovering from an injury, my brain has not been addled. I am still the Lord of this Valley, and I can assure you that I am still in control of my faculties."

"Adar, we just want you to rest and recover." Elrohir began but Elrond interrupted him.

"And I thank you for your thoughtful care over the last months. But, let me remind you how well you follow such orders. Rarely have I ever confined you to your room unless you were truly incapacitated. Rest and recuperation is often found in the gardens or libraries as much as in bed. I have just traveled from Lothlórien. I do not find walking to the kitchens in the least bit strenuous." His silver eyes flashed in barely controlled anger. His sons, Erestor, Merwen and Silsilalda offered their apologies. "I thank you for taking up my duties for a time." His voice held a tone of dismissal.

"It is our pleasure Adar." They said in unison. Elrohir paused to exchange a long glance with the senior healer before making his exit. Elladan turned to the others.

"Elladan, I suggest you discuss the border issues and decide on a course of action."

"Borders?" Cirulian immediately looked concern.

"There is some new information." Elladan motioned to the door and Cirulian and Merwen followed. Glorfindel indicated that he would join them later. Erestor sat down on the couch across from Elrond while Silsilalda took the seat next to their Lord.

"Elrond, you appear to be in some discomfort." She glanced to his shoulder and held her hands palms up. "May I examine you?" Elven healers always sought permission before treating conscious patients.

"I was subjected to enough probing last night. Naught has changed over a single evening." Elrond frowned obviously still annoyed.

"My skills have ever been at your service."

"No, I am in no mood for this."

"Then would you consider a simple draught of willow bark and camomile, just to take the edge off the pain?" The Peredhel knew his own mind and a "no" meant 'no'. So she merely sat palms up and met his flashing eyes with equanimity. Silver, intense, and uncharacteristically irritated, those remarkable eyes regarded her for long minutes before Elrond sighed.

"That would be acceptable. Thank you."

"No, it is I who am sorry that last night's examination and this morning's incident caused you such aggravation and discomfort. I will return with the draught shortly. I hope afterwards you can truly relax." She rose and after a deep curtsy departed. Glorfindel closed the door behind her, leaving just three of them in the chamber. He waited until the footsteps outside faded.

"You did not go directly to the kitchens." Glorfindel held his friend's gaze steadily.

"It is no longer here within your chambers." Erestor noted. They sat in an uncomfortable silence until Elrond rubbed at his temple and then replied.

"No, it is not. I have returned it to its original spot." Only the three of them had ever been to the secure underground chamber that was accessible only by a secret passage in the quiet and private family gardens. A dwarven lock, keyed to Elrond's voice and hand print secured the door.

"Those stairs and underlying chambers have not been accessed in millennia." Erestor said in alarm. "Is it even stable?"

"Perhaps because the caves housed such a talisman for so long or," Elrond paused and shook his head slowly. "I have no explanation but I knew it would be so. The lock still recognized my hand and opened upon my command. The steps were secure with no signs of wear. The cave is perfectly preserved. Even the three thousand year old fabric on the table is intact and as vibrant as if it were dyed yesterday. The walls glowed with the faint blue light as Vilya passed. I hung it in its original place and then directed its power to strengthen the curtain that protects the valley. Afterwards, I left by the same route and paused to study the rocks that hide the entrance. There was not a sign that anything had passed there."

"But you used its power in the kitchens when you assessed the security of the valley." Glorfindel could not banish the fear that crept up inside him.

"Yes," Elrond freely acknowledged. "The link between us has grown stronger. I no longer need to wear it on my hand in order to wield it. Its link with the valley is stronger as well. I do not completely understand nor can I predict what dangers are associated with it. But I would release my soul to join the wind or escape to Mandos hall before." He trailed off unwilling to speak what they feared – that Sauron was indeed reemerging.

_Xxxxxxxxx Greenwood's Stronghold xxxxxxxxX_

Thranduil rinsed the suds from his hair, thinking again how lucky they had been. They had only arrived back at the stronghold a few hours ago. Joy and relief rose up in him. Legolas was safe and had upon their arrival been set upon by his cousins. The young elf was likely off enjoying their attention, which would do him a world of good as he had been tentative and nervous on their return journey having come so close to death on their last travels. Yet again he said a prayer of thanks to Elbereth as he exited the shower and slipped into the heated pool.

"Where they so inhospitable in Lothlórien? I have rarely seen you rejoice at coming home in recent years." Orodiun remarked as he and Andapher entered. Between the two of them, they carried ample wine and refreshments.

"Is this to be an official debriefing?" Thranduil asked with raised brow. His brothers merely laughed.

"Do not give us that look! We are only concerned about your well-being." Andapher admonished.

"Yes, of course this is your debriefing." Orodiun continued seriously. "The door is closed. There is no one else within earshot. Now you can disclose the unabbreviated story of the incident with the Nazgul."

"I should have known you would detect the omissions." Thranduil smiled. His younger brother had suffered in Mordor. He shook away the memories of the haunted specter they had nursed back to health and recalled Elrond and Erestor's role in the aiding their family. At Thranduil's silence, Orodiun continued.

"I was present when the healers examined Legolas. I saw the site where the arrow pierced him. He should be dead."

"Yes he should be dead. It was no less than a miracle." Thranduil conceded. "Now we must keep a careful eye to gage his well being. He was as new recruit on our return journey."

"As any would expect given such a brush with death." His brother looked at him expectantly. Thranduil rubbed at his temples as he mentally prepared to share the terrible memory.

"The light was draining out of him even as I ran to his side. I knew immediately that he was dying." Thranduil whispered. Andapher poured out glasses of the heavy Dorwinian red wine. Thranduil took a large sip and waited for his brothers to settle into the pool. Then in an unusually quiet voice he described exactly what had occurred from the moment the wind whispered to him to the battle and its aftermath.

"Light poured from the air through the young Peredhel's hands!" Andapher repeated in shock. "A miracle." Thranduil looked into the astonished eyes of his brothers and came to a decision.

"A miracle made possible by one of Celebrimbor' follies." He added softly. They gasped at this revelation. "Now, what I am going to tell you must never be spoken to any other."

"One of the elven rings!" Orodiun gasped. "I knew it resided in Lothlórien but how?"

"That there is a ring in Lothlórien, I have little doubt." Thranduil agreed. "We have long speculated on that; however, the ring did not prevent traitors from entering that land. Neither does it fully protect its people. The leaders of Lothlórien asked for our help and council in strengthening their borders and in detecting returning travelers or warriors who might have been compromised, but that is yet another story." He held up his hand to forestall the inevitable questions.

"A reprieve for now, but we are not likely to forget such statements." Andapher returned.

"As for who wields the ring in defense of Lothlórien, I have no proof. However, the ring of the air is wielded by the son of a star."

"Elrond!" Oropher gaped. "But it could not save Celebrian."

"Nay, it is a powerful talisman but certainly not all powerful. You are not to divulge this knowledge to any one else." Both Andapher and Orodiun moved their right hands over their hearts as the sign of their oaths. Satisfied, Thranduil continued.

"We spoke long in private. Elrond told me he did not wield until Imladris was under dire risk of discovery around 1405 when Witch King sent forces to seek out the haven."

"Why would he not employ such a weapon earlier?"

"He was wary that the flora and fauna of Imladris would become dependent on its power, a dependence that while protective would greatly weaken Imladris in the end. It pulls on the bearer's own qualities and strengths in ways I think even Elrond is blind to. He was actually transformed into the wind and traveled disembodied to whisper warnings directly to me. That he was able to return to himself is nothing short of a miracle."

"But he wields it to protect his people."

"As would I, if given the choice. Our stronghold offers protection, but our warriors and villagers are ever in danger. Only our strategies, ingenuity, and courage stave off invasion."

"Celebrimbor's ingenuity."

"His ingenuity also helped Sauron develop his own skills. Skills that enabled the forging of the Evil rings."

"Elrond wields it only for his people."

"Were our need dire, I believe he would bring it here."

"Would he give it to you?"

"Perhaps with many cautions and warnings. From what I observed, wielding such a device takes a great toll on its bearer. I believe that Elrond will not be able to wield it for more than another several hundred to a thousand years."

"Then we shall lose another ally to the west?" Orodiun asked. Thranduil did not give voice to thoughts on that matter.

"He thinks the enemy will move before then."

"From the activity in the forest, that does seem to be the case."

"The council will soon be swayed to strike against Dol Goldur." Long discussions with Celeborn had convinced him that this would be the case.

"How soon?"

"Within the next yen." Thranduil held out his glass. Andapher refilled it with the rich wine.

"There is much for us to digest and still more, I think, for us to hear." Orodiun wisely commented. "But I think it behooves us to appoint regular emissaries to visit Lothlórien and Imladris."

"And not the Grey Havens?"

"I would not risk our people venturing to the sea. Few charged with such duties return here for long."

"Besides, we can hear the news from Mithlond and the Havens filtered through the Imladris perspective."

"Gildor and his wandering company can also be persuaded to stop here more regularly." Thranduil offered.

"Communication is key, if we are to coordinate our efforts." Orodiun paused, a look of dread passing momentarily over his face.

"We are not launching an attack on Mordor, Gwadur." Thranduil knew where his brother's thoughts had fled. "Nor will we cede control or planning to the White council or to another kingdom. Nay, it is due to our solidarity that Green Wood has stood against the darkness. But if the others were to move against our enemy it would be important for us to know."

"Such knowledge would be indispensable to our own strategies."

Xxxxxxxx Imladris xxxxxxxX

"Elrond, Mellon-nin, perhaps you could settle the argument before dinner." Glorfindel opened the door to Elrond's private chambers and stepped in. Elladan and Elrohir followed him closely.

"Adar will agree with me." Elrohir declared. Elrond was sitting at a desk in the alcove and did not look up. The Master of Imladris was deep in concentration, his pen moving slowly and deliberately across the parchment. "Adar?" Elrohir moved closer out of curiosity, their argument forgotten.

"You are not working, are you?" Elladan asked, but still their Father did not respond. Glorfindel motioned them to take a seat in the comfortable chairs that surrounded the fireplace. Elrond's desk was positioned under the window to take advantage of the natural lighting. The warrior walked loudly but the noise did not catch Elrond's attention. His sons chuckled in the background. Glorfindel stood patiently at the desk's side.

"_Poetry? Elrond is writing poetry." _Glorfindel was surprised, though happy, that his friend was indeed taking some time to enjoy his own hobbies and interests. The warrior waited until the quill in Elrond's hand was removed from the paper and rested against Elrond's cheek.

"Elrond?" He called gently. Elrond visibly jumped at the unexpected visitor. The movement must have jostled Elrond's injured arm because Glorfindel heard his soft moan. Silver eyes looked up at them and Glorfindel saw emotions flit across the silver orbs: surprise, annoyance, and embarrassmen_t. "Embarrassment?" _He wondered.

"Glorfindel, you could have knocked." Elrond rose from his chair. Laughter behind him caused him to turn too quickly.

"We did Ada!" Elrohir and Elladan proclaimed in unison. Elrohir noted how carefully Elrond held himself. "Come sit Ada. Did you rest this afternoon?"

"I enjoyed the solitude and began to put my thoughts on paper."

"And I see you changed into more presentable clothes." Glorfindel teased.

"Bredeli and Silsilalda saw to that." Elrond acknowledged with a wry smile.

"So what were you writing?" Elrohir asked curiously, but it was Glorfindel who gleefully supplied the answer.

"Your Adar was writing poetry."

"Poetry?" Elladan gaped.

"I am a writer. Surely, you have seen at least one or two of my manuscripts." Elrond's face was unreadable. He merely raised an eyebrow.

"There was a travel novel about the dwarven city." Elladan supplied thoughtfully.

"Is that the only one you have read?" Elrond's lips curved up in amusement.

"Texts on healing, botany and ornithology," Glorfindel grinned. "Elros thought your text would fill several shelves. He quite underestimated you, although he probably only read the book about your trip among the dwarves."

"Elros read a number of my books." Elrond corrected him. "Although the book you keep referring to was written when I was barely twenty years old. I cringe when I read it now."

"Your handwriting has not changed." Elrohir teased. "So when do we get to read your poetry?"

"Sometimes writers enjoy privacy. I write fiction and poetry for pleasure."

"He means never." Glorfindel translated as the twins laughed.

"Well, perhaps slightly sooner than never." Elrond rose.

"After dinner?" Elladan quipped as his brother paused in front of the mirror to gage whether his appearance was acceptable.

"Not that soon."


	22. Chapter 22 Trading places

_Teaching hall in the house of healing, Imladris_

Silsilalda stood at the back of the lecture hall and watched Master Elrond diagram two procedures for the isolation of salicin from willow bark extract. The purified samples were more potent than the normal powdered herb for treating inflammations of the tendons. Silsilalda observed the students furiously taking notes. Personally, she preferred the soxhlet extraction as she had always found it much easier to perform. Elrond was in his element and appeared relaxed and she dared say happy. His voice clearly conveyed his keen interest in understanding the components of these natural products. _"Whereas so many others would immediately chose the title of 'Lord'. Lore Master was the title he cherished above all else. For he would say that it was an earned title merit based and not some position haphazardly bestowed by the circumstances of birth." _She smiled at the thought. A young guard, she paused a moment to recalled his name, Areder, stood attentively off to the side. She noted his interest in the subject matter. Perhaps they would have an unexpected addition to their ranks. Silsilalda turned her attention back to the demonstrations. She watched as Daintárien perform an extraction, while Elrond explained the procedure. Usually the Master would do this himself; however, he had not yet fully recovered. The young healer was obviously delighted to assist Master Elrond. Elrond always gave a series of lectures on identification, isolation, and characterization of the bioactive components, when teaching this section. Silsilalda did a quick calculation about the last time he had taught the course. Six years ago, she decided. Yes, that was too long indeed. But duties at the Last Homely House had imposed upon him, taking him away from the normal teaching rotation.

Their long professional association pushed them both to strive for excellence and had influenced a number of others outside the healing field. She remembered how Elrond's ideas of separating extracts into pure substances with constant properties had spurred Thurinven's own studies. The creative Teleri had single-mindedly searched for the simplest pure substances and had separated gases. They had treated him numerous times for burns after he had isolated hydrogen by reacting iron filings with dilute acid. Hopefully, the inquisitive elf had found safe methods for storing these gases. Although she had not kept up with Thurinven's newest findings, she knew that the Master of the House was always the first to read them upon their arrival. Imladris had the most extensive library outside of the royal library in Mithlond. Scholars studying first age events would undoubtedly chose to work at the royal libraries. But for more recent subjects, they always undertook the journey to Imladris.

_Xxxxxxxx Council chambers __xxxxxxxX_

The council had taken up the issue of renewing the pipes that connected the hot springs under the valley to the main house. Erestor remembered how he and Elrond had sought input from the dwarves to construct and maintain the main thermal baths. These had been running continuously with minimum monthly maintenance since the beginning of this age. However, the materials used to channel the water and steam to the main house regularly corroded and had to be renewed frequently.

"Why can we not use the same combination of materials used to carry drinking water into the house?" Ander inquired.

"The dissolved salts and compounds from the thermal vents are much more harsh." Merwen informed them. "Using the same pipes might mean that we would need to replace them three or four times each yen rather than once or twice."

"Perhaps we might discuss this with our dwarven ambassadors. They are scheduled to come in later in the spring." Gaudhúr suggested. The engineer was always in favor of searching for new materials.

"It will take time to evaluate new materials for their safety and stability. I move in favor of the preparation of three new pipes to replace the north section, which shows the most wear. We can gather information about possible new materials from Mithlond and the Durin's ambassador. If any appear suitable, more stringent evaluations could be started in the summer." The Peredhel soundly reasoned.

"I second the motion." Erestor looked around at the council members. Four more items remained, although only the final one would be contentious. In the back of his mind was the unexpected news that a party from Mithlond had been sighted approaching their borders.

"All in favor?" The Peredhel queried. "All opposed? The motion passes by a simple majority. Let us move on to the next item on our agenda. Gaudhúr will offer a report on the state of our mills." Three different water driven mills provided much of the power to drive mechanical grinding of grain to flour, to saw wood, and to shape metal. The efficient engineer deftly described the mills and noted the updates that would be required in the case of the metal shaping tools. Then Anorlach outlined the current plans for the first planting and the suggested alternatives. The final decisions would be the subject of debate at next weeks council meeting. They tabled the most contentious items until their next meeting. Finally, Elladan drew the council to a close. A tap of the gavel on the table signaled the end of discussions. The twenty-five members of the council broke into disorder as parchment crinkled into its respective rolls and people spoke together. Erestor waited for the council leader to gather his materials as others filed out of the room.

"Your Adar would be proud Elladan of the way you handled the council." Erestor was not one to hand out complements easily.

"Thank you." Elladan rose. The council chamber had emptied and he felt at ease enough to stretch. His back was stiff from sitting so long. "Shall we venture to meet the visitors from Mithlond?"

"I do admit to being curious. We were not expecting any from Mithlond. Shall we summon your Adar?" Erestor asked. Elladan looked out at the sky, obviously pondering his Adar's schedule.

"I do not think that is necessary. Silsilalda said they would continue strengthening exercises this afternoon. That is surely to be an exhausting experience. Besides, Eruingal offered to make the necessary preparations. I hear that you are traveling to Mithlond this summer?" Elladan's teasing smile appeared. Erestor sighed.

"You have been talking to Gwaefaer."

"So, you are going to tour the Havens as well." Elladan's smile widened. "Surely, the famed Lord Erestor should personally introduce his daughter to all sights of the Havens and the great city."

"I am needed here."

"I doubt you would want to miss the experience of introducing your daughter to the wonders of your former home. Ada and Naneth thoroughly enjoyed our trips there as a family."

"They were also delighted to return home."

"We were quite the handful back then." Elladan admitted. "I do not think it will be nearly as trying to travel with Gwaefaer and Eruingal."

Xxxxxxxxx _The Northern Border of Imladris _xxxxxxxxX

High cliffs and steep gorges formed a protective and rugged northern border of Imladris. Elrohir called his trusted steed Bregwaew to a halt and breathed deeply. _"The younger twin seemed to blossom in the fresh and invigorating air."_ Glorfindel mused as he pulled his cloak up from where it had slipped off the shoulder. _"Slightly too chilly." _

"We cornered six in this area as they descended the rocky crag towards dragonfly gully." Hannassiel informed them as she pointed. "We have not detected any other signs of incursions." The keen elleth had command of the northern post this month. Typically, only six to ten warriors kept watch over the northern border.

"Just a single group?" Glorfindel had pointedly gone over the maps of these areas with Elrond. The peredhel had focused Vilya's power northward to try to uncover any clandestine activities. He had detected three separate groups.

"We have information that there may be more groups searching the northern provinces for an entry to the valley." Elrohir informed her.

"It would be difficult if nigh impossible to scour the Coldfells and completely secure the Gorges." Hannassiel gasped at the complexity of the task.

"Perhaps not impossible." Glorfindel smiled as an idea formed in his mind. Elves were not the only creatures to shelter in this area. He mumbled as if to himself. "Lord Elrond has more experience communicating with them, but think his son and I might be able to make contact and convince them of the mutual benefits of such a undertaking."

"What are you thinking?" Elrohir could not imagine what the comment might mean.

"All in good time." The fabled warrior would not reveal his plans. "First, Hannassiel let us consider your maps of the terrain. I think we should retired to a warmer place and focus on where you have recently sent scouts."

_Xxxxxxxxx House of Healing, Imladris xxxxxxxxX_

"You have made remarkable progress." Noenri noted as he finished massaging Elrond's left arm and hand. The arrival of the elder healer from Mithlond had been quite a surprise. He had taken care of the young prince in the years after Elrond's release from captivity in the First Age. Elrond's movements were still choppy and uncoordinated. Noenri noted patches along the arm where Elrond had little feeling. He hoped that would mend with time.

"There is still much to go." Elrond's expression was unreadable but then he smiled slightly. "Being able to button my own tunic would be a welcome development."

"Building muscle strength and control will take some months yet. Your family and friends are happy to help." Noenri watched as his patient transferred the dough to his left hand and tried to press his fingers close to add the print of his left hand to it. He could open and close his hand more easily now, but he could barely press his thumb to the tips of his other fingers with any reasonable pressure. Concentrating, he moved the dough with his right hand to have it span the gap between his left thumb and the other fingers.

"Yes, I am blessed with an attentive circle of caregivers, even if they are sometimes overzealous." Elrond conceded. "This draught you experimenting with?" The idea that pure substances might have higher efficacy was not something Noenri subscribed to. He believed medicines worked best in concert. Although experience showed that both views had merit.

"A mixture of purified salicin, purple cone flower extract and licorice root." Noenri described it more thoroughly. "There is good evidence to suggest that the three interact to aid nerve regeneration. It takes some time and skill to prepare. I will show you while I am here. But for now, perhaps your strengthening exercises take precedence. Perhaps I should use your private herb laboratory to keep this experimental mixture separate from the healing halls common stocks."

"That would be fine, although you may need to see my sons, for they have decided to station a guard around our private quarters."

"And a personal guard for you as well." Noenri held back a smile at the undignified 'humpf' that escaped the Master of Imladris' lips. "But still less security than was the case in Mithlond, my Prince."

"There is that to be thankful for." Elrond admitted evenly. Noenri's clear laughter was the response.

"I will see you shortly." Noenri rose and made his way out from the rehabilitation room. He met Silsilalda at the doorway and gave his observations on Elrond's progress.

"I will prepare the draught in Elrond's private laboratory for now. We can administer the first dose this evening." Noenri paused. "I am looking forward to interacting with more of your pupils. If this mornings rounds and lectures are the norm, you have set the bar high indeed." Silsilalda smiled at the complement. For she and Elrond strived to maintain an excellent school for healers. She watched their former mentor leave, then turned back to check on her patient. The dough was on the table but Elrond stood across the room, evidently peering out the open window. He stood very still, which immediately alerted her. She focused her healing sense on his aura. Flaring intense reds carried the sense of war and violence swirled together with choking beak blackness.

"Hir-nin!" She called out and stepped up behind him, reaching out with her senses to see what had overcome him. "Hir-nin! Ernil! (Prince)" Their physical closeness augmented the connection of one elven fëa to another and allowed her emotions to influence his. She fought down the feeling of frustration at his lack of response and tightened her hold on him. "Elrond, are you well?" She felt a spark and saw lighter colors emerge in his aura: the lavender of humor and blues of friendship. As the tension in his stance eased, he turned towards her. Silver eyes cleared and suddenly sparkled with mirth.

"You called me Elrond." He smiled wryly.

"I will endeavor not to do so _Hir-nin_." It was a standing war between them. She was ever one for proper manners and protocols.

"You have known me nearly all my life."

"It would be improper, Ernil." She smiled at his look of annoyance, remembering the vulnerable young prince who had entered Mithlond in the company of dwarves. "At the very least, I should call you Hir-nin."

"What will you do in Valinor where princes are as common as acorns?"

"I doubt they are that common." Her disbelief was palpable. She held her hands palms up to ask permission to assess him. He sat back down and picked up the dough.

"Your muscles are tight and I detect spasms." Silsilalda concentrated on easing the tension. She traced the connections with her thoughts and focused on the worst section. Warmth of her healing energy flowed into her patient. The spasms weaken and dissipated under her touch. "You are making good progress. We do not want to push the nerves and muscles too fast." Elrond simply nodded.

"You will tell someone – perhaps Glorfindel or Erestor – when the dark memories assault you? It is not good to bear such things in silence." She was not surprised by his silence and had not expected any response.

"Perhaps I will return to main house. Surely, the council has already finished." Elrond smiled slightly.

"Your sons are adamant in their efforts to give you a reprieve from your normal duties."

"I appreciate their gesture, especially since I know that leading the council is one of Elladan's least favorite activities." Silsi laughed.

"That is an understatement."

"It is nice to be able to have more time in the healing halls."

"I know many appreciate having the opportunity to hear your lectures."

"I have several new volunteers to help up my research studies."

"I have found Galchellil to be particularly bright. She will be well suited to the isolation of natural products." Both turned to see one of the guards enter.

"Areder, is it time already?" Elrond looked up in surprise.

"Yes, my Lord. Master Noenri told me that he was almost ready." The young warrior moved to help his Lord. Elrond looked up into the eager young face, smiling as he accepted the warrior's aid. Now that he thought about it, he was somewhat tired. The ached in his arm had also returned.

"And you, Areder? Have you completely recovered?" Elrond allowed the young warrior to guide him to the door. Both gave departing greetings to Silsilalda.

"Yes, my Lord. I am completely healed. I will be delighted when you can say the same."

"Just a few more weeks." Elrond agreed but paused as he detected that his guard had something on his mind. "But you wish to ask about something else?"

"I have been listening to your lectures." The warrior blushed slightly but continued when he realized he had his Lord's full attention. "I have a few questions." Elrond treated him with a surprised smile.

"Ask away!" He encouraged as they set off towards the main house.

_Xxxxxxxx Northern Gorges near the Coldfells xxxxxxxX_

"The midden suggests that their camp has been here for several years." Hannassiel and two under her command had finished inspecting the pit in the back of the cave.

"So it seems." Glorfindel agreed. "I was surprised by the number of tools and weapons. There were maps as well, although they did not venture far enough south to detect our valley."

"Still it seems that it was imminent. Had you not had some warning, they would have eventually confronted us at the border." She shivered. The orcs had outnumbered them two to one, but with the element of surprise on their side, they were quickly routed. "Who is to say, who would have been victorious?"

"It is best not to dwell on what might have been." Glorfindel led her outside. The bright noon light was not warm for it was still early in the spring. Her sleeve was red with blood. "Come, Elrohir should see to your injury."

"It is a minor cut." She waved off his help.

"And he has surely already seen to those more seriously injured." Glorfindel would not be deterred. He guided her, somewhat heavy handedly to where Elrohir was just washing up. "A minor cut should still be cleaned and bandaged. You would not want infection to set in and keep your from our meeting with the great eagles." Wonder sparked in the elleth's eyes.

"I never dared to hope to see such magnificent creatures up close. It was truly amazing."

"I was sure I stumbled over every word as I gawked at Menelwen (Sky maiden)." Elrohir smiled as he gestured for Hannassiel to sit.

"I can vouch that you did no such thing, Elrohir." Glorfindel laughed. "You did your Adar proud. Menelwen did not want any of the enemy to be around later in the spring. I think she expects to have a nest full of chicks to attend to."

"Is that why Brannombras was so generous in his aid?" She was truly thankful for the sharp eyes of the eagles. Without them, they would have been hard pressed to discover this orc foothold.

"They are eyeing a crag west of here to build a nest." Glorfindel said as Elrohir washed her arm.

"The cut is long but not too deep. Given its length, I would feel better if I sewed it closed. It will heal more quickly." Elrohir turned to gather the sutures.

"I trust your judgment." Hannassiel then pointedly looked away from where Elrohir sat readying the thread.

"Surely, a little blood does not bother you?" Glorfindel teased. He was happy that a small smile curved on the elleth's face.

"I remember someone else who prefers not to see his own blood." She and Glorfindel shared the same dislike.

"I take great pains to avoid it leaking." He said lightly and reached to take her good hand. She tensed as Elrohir began to stitch the gash. Luckily, the son of Elrond was very skilled and was soon applying a salve and bandaging the area.

_Xxxxxxxx Dawn in Imladris' gardens xxxxxxxX_

Elladan heard the light step pass his door and immediately rose from his bed. Dawn was not far off. He slipped on a tunic then pulled on leggings, socks and boots. He quickly braided his hair and made his way down the hall.

"Lord Elrond has ventured into the gardens. He ordered us to remain here."

"I will guard him and accompany him to the house of healing later." Elladan paused. "Let Lord Erestor know the change in schedule and have a guard posted at the healings halls after the mid-day meal."

"Yes, my Lord." They bowed and retreated. Elladan straightened his tunic and continued down the stairs and out into the gardens. It was not long until he spied the tall figure with the swirling mass of unruly hair. He watched his Father start his stretching routine, which was interrupted by undignified 'humpf' as he had to keep pausing to gather his hair in one hand.

"Ada" he called gently.

"Elladan!" Elrond spun around in surprise.

"I do not think you have healed enough for a morning run."

"No, you are correct. But a walk is not too strenuous."

"Perhaps I will join you this morning. There are a few issues that I wanted to discuss with you." Elladan smiled and pulled a leather cord from his pocket. "Would you like me to tie your hair back?"

"Yes, thank you." Strong silver eyes met his. Elladan smiled amiably and stepped behind his father. He had no comb but managed to coax and finally capture all the fluttering silken strands into one hand and held it close to his father's scalp. Then he quickly twisted the leather tie around it and secured it.

"You are not sleeping well." Elladan waited but his father did not comment so he continued. "Elrohir was not either, that was the primary reason that he was so eager to go with Glorfindel to assess the borders."

"He did not say anything to me." Elrond was immediately concerned.

"He will come to you in his own time. I think it is something that you have more experience dealing with. You told me that our minds twist visions into nightmares." Elrond froze.

"Elrohir has visions?" Elladan nodded and motioned for them to walk.

"Visions are only what might be." Elladan held back a smile as he realized that he had repeated his father's exact words from years ago.

"They are poor guides to action." Elrond said out of habit. "It is very difficult to separate oneself from a vision" He said aloud but thought to himself, _"especially if it foretold dreadful incident involving loved ones."_

"Yet these vision or dreams now torment him at night. It worries me that he will not speak of it."

"Glorfindel may recognize the signs and coax it out of him." Elrond's lips curved upward. "He recognizes the signs because he deals with memories twisted into dreams."

"We should have protected you – protected Naneth." Elladan uncharacteristically pulled his Adar closer.

"You did your best. Our attackers held an unfair advantage and were able to identify me at a distance." Elrond returned. "It was a near thing, but I was fortunate. It does no good to dwell on the past. We all have our fears and darker 'visions' of what the future might bring. It is our perseverance and efforts to change the future for the better that stand as a testament of our character."

"What is it that you fear, Ada?"

"Losing my children. The world is growing darker and more dangerous."

"We know how to take care of ourselves."

"I know that you and Elrohir are formidable warriors. But there are sometimes circumstances beyond our control." His whisper trailed off.

"Are we not safe even here?" Elladan detected that his father had more to add. He waited patiently.

"We forged here a haven. But Sauron's darkness may overtake it. In their clandestine fortresses, the forces of our enemy are growing in power. I will not leave this land until that threat has finally been overcome or." He could not bring himself to speak this possibility.

"Our allies will stand beside us."

"Your tireless diplomatic efforts have greatly enhanced our ties to our allies." Elrond praised.

"As have your tireless efforts at securing our Haven." Elladan now took the opportunity to voice his own worries. "Adar, I believe that you should remain in Imladris. There is no need to take on the risks of traveling. I would know that you are safe." Elrond smiled sadly at him.

"Now you know how I feel. For I too pray to Elbereth each time you travel." He paused as Elladan looked at him expectantly. "It is difficult to know what the future holds, but I am not planning on journeying from Imladris except under great need or dire circumstances."

"I am glad to hear that."

"I think in such cases, you and Elrohir will be by my side."

"Of that you can be sure." Elladan promised with his hand over his heart. During their conversation they had traversed the path to the Bruinen. Its waters were swollen with the melting of the winter snow pack up on the peaks. Its normally gentle banter was now a loud, persistent rush. "Let us pause here for a while Ada, there are a few issues I wanted to bring up with you." Elrond nodded in agreement and slowly sat next to his son.

"Perhaps the piping for the hot springs or repairs on the metal shaping mill?" Elrond smiled at his son's surprised look. "Or could it be the spring planting?"

"Nothing gets by you."

"I have not heard anything. You and your brother conspired to keep me out of the daily running of the valley." The handsome face conveyed gratitude. "Thank you, I have truly enjoyed being back at the healers school for these few months."


	23. Chapter 23 Epilogue

"Ada?" Elladan knocked on his Father's bedroom door with a tray of breakfast items in hand. There was no response. Not that he expected one, for Master Noenri's draught was potent and his father did not normally awaken before mid-morning since he started taking it. But the healing draught had greatly aided his recovery. Elladan, who was not normally given to prayer, had given thanks each day for the steady improvements he observed. Indeed, soon Elrond would be returning to his normal routine including his traditional morning run. Noenri, the Master healer and Elrond's Mentor, predicted a full recovery and he was departing with Erestor and his family this morning. They were bound for Mithlond. Erestor's children, especially Gwaefaer was very excited for her first glimpses of the cities that she had only read about. Her usual travels took her often to visit her Naneth's people, the Avari or to visit Greenwood. Elrond wanted to be able to see them off. Elladan left the tray on the table before entering the bedroom.

"Ada" Elladan called gently as he walked to the bed. Elrond was sound asleep. He was not wearing a nightshirt and his torso was covered with just a light sheet. Elladan gently felt his father's forehead. "Slight fever." The fever was a side effect of Noenri's draught. But he found the deep sleep the draught induced far more disturbing, for Elrond was only given to such sleeps when he was exhausted. "Adar it is time to awaken." Elladan examined the injured sites. His hand slid down along his father's arm until he grasped the warm hand gently. There were no visible signs of what his father had endured. For that Elladan silently sent a prayer of thanks to Elbereth even as he asked for her future protection.

"Elladan do not worry. I will be fine." He jumped at the sound of his father's soft tenor. An amused smile met his as the warm fingers gripped firmly.

"I am so thankful that it is so Ada." He leaned to kiss the top of his father's head.

"Thank you for waking me. How much time do we have?"

"Thirty minutes. They are beginning to carry things down to the yard." Elrond sat up but was obviously dizzy and light-headed. Elladan steadied and assessed him. These were just side effects of the draught and were slow to wear off.

"It is more than enough time, Ada. There is no need to rush. Careful, you are still unsteady." He chided as he handed him a shirt. "Let me help you to the table. You will feel better after a light meal."

"Just a week more and I will be done with that medicine." Elrond sighed and allowed Elladan to helped him. Cook and Cheredeth had sent up fresh strawberries and vanilla Aurcram. Both were among Elrond's favorites. The enticing buttery morning pastries were still warm. Elladan busily arranged things and poured his father a cup of tea.

"I am going to get spoiled by all this pampering. There is far too much food for two of us." Elrond broke one of the Aurcram in half. The aroma induced a smile. "Heavenly." Elladan held back a smile as he watched his Father happily indulged in the tasty biscuit.

"You deserve it Adar."

"You are advocating slothfulness and gluttony? Hardly the ethics that you want your staff to adhere to, oh acting Master of Imladris." Elrond teased.

"But I know you would not take such advice to heart." Elladan smiled as he helped himself to a bowl of fresh berries. "Besides you are teaching three lectures a week and making regular rounds with the healers. Be mindful you do not push yourself too hard."

"You never followed that advice during your many convalescent periods." Elrond's feigned affront but laughed at his son's next words.

"Do as I say, not as I do."

"I have heard from a reliable source that you are hard at work tackling repairs and gauging the trade agreements that will be renegotiated this fall."

"You are not supposed to be worrying about Imladris for a few more months." Elladan watched with glee as his Adar indulged in a hearty breakfast. His Naneth had divulged secrets to making sure his Adar ate. Elrond had a tendency to forget to eat when he was caught up in a project or when stressed and overworked. Her keen tactics of enticing him with one of his favorites while distracting him with light conversation were guaranteed to succeed. Once breakfast was finished, Elrond dressed. Then he and his son walked down to the stables, which were now a bustle of activity.

Gwidian was standing near her black stallion. The enigmatic wife of Erestor was silently surveying the preparations while her children were helping to secure belongings on one of the back animals. The beautiful wife of his trusted friend and top councilor was an elleth of action but few words. He had first met her at their wedding, a magical affair in the Avari settlement. Celebrian had quickly taken to her as a close confidant, as Gwidian had a wicked and satirical sense of humor. She turned to greet them.

"You look well, Master Elrond." She embraced him. Her emerald eyes were shiny.

"Your children appear to be ready to depart." Elrond returned the embrace.

"Gwaefaer was ready weeks ago. Today she rose before the sun." Warriors and travelers alike were mounting. Gwidian sprang upon her steed with ease and waved her goodbye to the Master of Imladris.

"May Elbereth bring you safely to Mithlond and guide you back to us again." Elrond announced. A cheer went up in response. Erestor guided his horse forward.

"It has been too long since you traveled outside the valley." Elrond embraced his close friend and confidant. "Take care of yourself. Enjoy this precious time with your family."

Erestor pulled back to look more closely at the dear Peredhel. The handsome face looked more careworn than ever and yet Elrond was obviously gaining strength each day.

"My duty is to see to Imladris and its Lord." Erestor said solemnly though his eyes were teasing. "I have set others to the task in my absence."

"Do not fear. I have more than enough minders." He gestured to where his sons were saying their goodbyes to Gwaefaer and Eruingal. "Safe travels!" Erestor mounted his horse and guided the steed towards Gwidian. Slowly and steadily the party departed. Elladan and Elrohir came to stand next to their Adar, who was now trading jibes with Noenri.

"Do not let me hear of any more injuries, lest I invite your sons to Mithlond and give them a full disclosure of your younger days." Noenri admonished lightly.

"I believe that Cirulian has already enlightened them." Elrond returned.

"Another viewpoint would be most educational." Elrohir grinned.

"I am sure the most revered Master Noenri could elaborate those tales further." Elladan executed a proper bow of respect.

"If Gil-Galad could see them." The elder elf face brightened at the antics of Elrond's sons.

"He would appreciate their comedy and humor." Sadness flickered momentarily in the silver eyes.

"And love them like grandchildren." Noenri waved his farewell. His turn had come to follow the procession out of the valley. "I expect to see you in Mithlond before another yen has passed. May Elbereth protect you." The Peredhil watched until the last rider disappeared from view.

"Come Adar, it is nearly lunch time." Elrohir coaxed. But the silver eyes seemed cloudy, and Elrond shook his head.

"I believe I will spend a few hours at the healing halls, for I have done nothing yet today to earn my lunch." He winked at Elladan as he referred to their breakfast conversation.

_Xxxxxxxxxxx Weeks later xxxxxxxxxxxX_

It was a bright summer morning. Anorlach was already out working in the small blueberry patch. They had received this fruit in a trade with Greenwood, where it apparently grew wild in the woods. The bushes were only a few years old, but for the first time they displayed a bountiful harvest of the ripe blue berries. Anorlach thought about how they might expand this patch given the plants obvious preference for a moist location that received a half-day of sun. The cracking of leaves and soft footfalls caught his attention and he looked up to see a familiar, noble figure with checks red from exertion emerging from the forest trail.

"Good morning my Lord." He called brightly. Lord Elrond waved and slowed his pace finally settling into a fast walk as he reached Anorlach.

"Morning…. Anorlach." Elrond tried to catch his breath as he circled obviously concerned about coming to an abrupt halt. "I …. try to get back ….. to …."

"No explanations needed." Anorlach smiled. It was the first time in many months that their Lord had been well enough to pursue his early morning run. One of the guards had stopped by not more then ten minutes ago to see if their Lord had passed here already. "They are seeking you up at the house. There will be fresh blueberries at lunch. Have a good day!"

Xxxxxxx

"You have a talent for conscientious building." Glorfindel praised as the walked towards the council chambers. "You do your Adar proud."

"Elrohir and I agreed upon three more months. By that time Ada should be more than healed and fully rested." Elladan sighed and finally brought up something he and Elrohir had been worrying about. "The protocol in Imladris has been to allow warriors who have suffered captivity or extreme stress many years off from their duties to give their minds and faer time to fully heal. Obviously, Adar cannot take that much time. But do you, do you think?" He paused a moment before trying again. "You have spent much time with him. Do you think that Adar." He was unable to give voice to his fear. Glorfindel's face softened.

"Elladan, I have known your Adar a long time. He is strong and has faced many challenges. I can tell you that he is healing well both in mind and body. There will be no lasting effects from this."

"Thank you." Elladan breathed out in relief.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

Elrond waved to the farmer and resumed his path back to the house. A small stretch of woods separated the farm from the children's fields and playground. Children's joyful shouts rang out. In the field several boys were engaged in a game of tag, while a younger set were filling cups with sand and gravel, although their efficiency was quite low. Elrond had to smile as one of the more energetic toddlers waved his small shovel full of dirt unexpectedly towards his Mother. The lives of these children – and all the elves and men in the valley were his responsibility to protect. His purpose and mission, his reasons for remaining instead of sailing west – were reinforced by a child's innocent smile. They had labored long and hard to create this haven. Innocent and not so innocent smiles from the past swirled in his mind.

_Xxxxxxxx Númenor, Second Age 205 xxxxxxxxxX_

"_Elrond!" The wavy hair was now peppered with gray, which startled Elrond for a moment, but the guilty smile was the same. _

"_Elros!" Elrond hurried forward, but paused at the palpable concern he sensed from Elros' guards – of course they did not remember him. It had been almost ten years. But Elros stepped forward and embraced him. "It is good to see you!"_

"_I thought you would not mind a detour and some exercise." Mischief sparkled in the silver eyes._

"_I have been cooped up on a ship and then endured two days in a carriage. A walk or some exercise would be nice followed by a nice soak to remove all the dirt from the road."_

"_Oh, I think we will postpone the soak until afterwards. I intend for you to be mired in dirt before the afternoon is through." Elros led him to a field and handed him a uniform. "I took the liberty of bring a change of clothes for you." The next hour was spent in a battle with no weapons but a ball and feet and heads on an open field. New faces of his grandsons now joined the familiar faces of Elros' sons. Descendents of old friends were also present. The number of players was perfect for football. The goals at the opposite ends of the field were much more substantial than the last time he had played. Apparently, this game had grown in popularity. Elrond was seized momentarily with memories of dear friends long departed from this world – Analise and Halverad, Mikeal and Erzsi, Selina and Beleford and so many more. Now even their children's children were grandparents. He pushed aside these thoughts at fresh mischievous faces taunted and challenged him to a battle on the field. These short-lived people had a spark - enthusiasm and energy that drew others towards them. Elrond gave himself over to the game, a battle of footwork and ball maneuvering skills that lasted over an hour. At the end, Elrond already weary from traveling, collapsed in exhaustion on the sidelines. _

"_I thought an elf would have more stamina." __Atanalcar chided__. Vardamir, Elros' eldest son was making arrangements for refreshments. Vardamir's son Aulendil sank curiously beside his great uncle. The boy was fourteen years old and did not remember meeting this strange elf. _

"_Is he really your uncle?" Aulendil said doubtfully. "He looks much younger than you." Elros made his way over and sat down next to his brother. He took up Elrond's hands in his own and brushed the perspiration off the youthful forehead with a towel. _

"_A month on a ship and you are out of shape." Elros, who was now more widely known as King __Tar-Minyatur__, __smiled gleefully. "We ought to cut your hair back to your shoulders and get one of my Grandchildren to lend you some clothes. You are far too thin to borrow any from me. Are their still food shortages in Mithlond?"_

"_I like my hair the way it is." Elrond's grumble had a whiney tone and Vardamir laughed as he passed around glasses of water. _

"_You sound like my son." Vardamir teased. "Are you sure you are as old as Adar?" _

"_Same age but different experiences." Elros pointed out. "Have you even lived on your own yet?"_

"_You know I live at the palace. But I do travel often." Elrond retorted. _

"_Have you really kissed a woman yet?" Elros laughed at the blush that spread across his brother's face. He had his answer and switched to another topic. "You stand out in a crowd. As the brother of the King, you are already far too difficult to protect. Perhaps a compromise, just chop an even foot off the end." _

"_Only elflings keep their hair so short." Elrond grumbled. Vardamir, Manwendil and Atanalcar shared a grin with their father. _

"_With shorter hair, I think we could pass him off as one of my children when we head out to celebrate together." Atanalcar teased. "Vardamir's sons are far too well known." _

"_Think of it as part of your education." Elros teased. "Afterwards, you can spend a quiet week debating lore with Vardamir and his colleagues." _

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"He was here about an hour ago." Anorlach noted the worry on Lord Elladan's face. "He took the path towards the Lady's garden. Perhaps you accidentally passed each other."

"Perhaps," Elladan looked towards the path. He could hear children's laughter in the distance. "Thank you."

"My pleasure Lord Elladan." Anorlach smiled. "Your Adar looks much better." The two exchanged some parting words. Then Elladan proceeded on the wooded path towards the playground. He might have passed his father, had the trees not been singing happily. Suddenly Elladan believed Cirulian's stories of a young Peredhel slipping away from his guards keen sight. For in concentrating on the trees' song, he also detected the melody of his Adar's spirit. The elder Peredhel seemed to materialize from the shadows. Elrond was leaning against a thick oak tree and appeared to be observing the children. Dark hair floated like smoke around the still figure.

"Adar?" He called, but there was no reply. He slipped his arm around his father's shoulders.

"Elladan?" His Father blinked dazedly and turned, lifting his hand to traced his son's cheek. "Do you need me?"

"You were too long in returning from your run. I was worried that you may have pushed yourself too much." Elladan carefully watched his father reaction. The silver eyes were clear and bright. _"Not a vision" he thought. "Memories then." _

"I am well thank you. I only tarried to talk with Anorlach."

"And watch the children." Elladan teased as the children's voices rose in volume. "Good memories?"

"Yes," Elrond paused. "All reminders of what we nurture in this valley." Elladan lips curved upwards in surprise and happiness. His Adar was truly healing. They all were.

"You have not eaten yet." Elladan guessed. His father did not contradict him. "I have arranged for us to have a late breakfast. Elrohir arrived back from patrol."

"Is he well?"

"Yes." Elladan smiled as he mentally worded his request to deemphasize the meal. "Though he was covered with dirt and I sent him to clean up. I thought the three of us might slip away and spend some time together." His Adar smiled at the suggestion.

"Lead the way ion-nin."


End file.
